Things I miss

The slight lilt and crackle in your voice at the end of your sentences.

The look in your eye when passion overtakes propriety like the bow before the arrow flies.

The sudden squeeze of my hand when something randomly delights you.

How you’re not afraid to hold me or be held by me.

The playful, nearly spritely, approach to most things you do.

The way you tilt your head slightly to the right and down when you’re done talking and want to be kissed.

Your eagerness to experiment with life, try new things… Even boring art professors who stubbornly mispronounce an artist’s name.

The way you push me to use my outside voice.

The sexy way you whisper in my ear, long after we’ve been at it for some time, “more!”

Your aesthetic sense that’s reflected in a classy, sometimes daring and impossibly sexy style.

The lack of concern about seeming too interested in sex and enjoying every minute of it.

The light in your eye when you greet me at the door.

These and many more are etched in my heart.

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