I miss

it is that I miss your touch
the gentle glide
the tender slide
of each finger tip
from neck to hip
singing sweet melodies
on skin in need of remedy
it is that I miss your warmth
the cuddle
the snuggle
that moment in between a kiss
where I see your face and reminisce
and think of all the smiles there
and frown because, tonight, it isn’t there…
it is that I miss your voice
the sound your chuckle makes
the sound of each breath you take
in fact, I miss the way you snore
your silhouette as you close the bedroom door.
it is that I love you
this I cannot deny
to lose you would rob me of all of my life
you are more than sunshine
and far more precious than air
you say you are mine
.
.
.
I miss your fingers in my hair.

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