It's not like the missing-you-ache of any other relationship-
it's not a co-dependent, dysfunctional, deficient ache.
I am a whole person with you, unto myself.
It's not a consumed, infatuated, barren ache.
I am in love with you like grass grows green.
It's a subtle hint of you, a familiar ache.
I miss you in quiet Sunday nights
of TV and pasta for one, with room
for two on the couch, in the serving size of my soul.
I miss you in perusing the Arts section,
catching up on movies to see together
which we instead watch separately in cities apart.
19 September 2010