In the dark, quiet love. We have spiders
Building amazing webs in the corners.
It has been many days and I miss your arms.
I miss the whole contours of the right side
Of your body, where I can fit when you sleep
On your back and I miss your hand in mine
At this time of the morning on a Saturday.
I miss the whole contours of the left side
Of your body, that I can feel when you’re stretched
On your stomach and I miss my foot resting against yours.
And I miss the whole hardness of your bicep
As it changes with your arm– straight and bent.
I miss your eyes when the sun finally rises
Into the room and fills our hearts with the smile
Of seeing what we only felt in the dark.
I miss the record beginning to play and drawing me to you.
I miss us at near noon as we sit in the glass doorway,
Sharing the warmth and a secret.