pixelated.me

i miss your hands, your courageous hands, that weave worlds together carefully,
i miss that intoxicating scent of you, that human scent, of waking up together in the morning, of unfolding ourselves from each other.
i miss the noises you can't help but make when i make you cum, when you let me make you cum,
i miss waltzing with you on the tops of undulating beds in all the places we go when we travel.
i miss running my fingers through your tiny hair as you make tea in the mornings, in the middles, in the evenings, or even in your sleep.
i miss long afternoons we'd spend talking about all the little things and the not so big things as you held your purple pen like a wand.
i miss pretending not to watch you draw with the fascination of a little boy seeing his mother undress for the first time.
i miss your self conscious breasts and the way your thighs frame the soft whisper of your pubic hair,
i miss feeling terrified at the possibility, the danger, of almost, maybe, kinda could, if only, when there's time, and room, and courage, falling in love, with each other.
i miss it and I've never met you.