“
I miss you like the air that I breathe, like the oxygen in
my bloodstream that keeps me alive. I miss the smell of your
cologne and the curve of your lips. This is not a love letter to
the us that has never -nor will ever have- been. This is not a
sonnet or a metaphor. I am singing praises to the shine of your
hair, the bend of your wrist, the curve of your legs, the arms
that are my home.
”
