I miss him.
I miss the way he smells
I miss the way he looked at me,
clothed or not
I miss the way his fingers fell on my skin,
like a soft wave crashing on the coast at dawn
I miss the way his lips touched mine,
so gentle yet with enough power to bring a lord to his knees
I miss the way he held me
His arms wrapped me tight like the ribbons I wore in my hair as a child
His palms cupped my face as a fragile piece of fine china
He took care of me
He met my every need.
Until he didn’t.
The air turned cold like summer skies turned to the harshness of winter
All of a sudden I was alone
Standing on the shoulder of a dark sullen road
How many moons do I have to cross to find you again?
The air turned fiery in my lungs. Anger. Grief.
Loss.
I lost
to the world
to him
to myself.