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How
Written: 6/27/98
How can you miss something you’ve never felt?
How can I miss your touch? Your finger tips softly brushing against my cheek,
your fingers tracing over my body, your hands against my skin in the tenderest touch?
How can I miss these things I’ve never truly felt?
How can you miss something you’ve never seen?
How can I miss your smile? Your eyes looking deeply into mine, getting lost in your soul,
your gestures as you talk, the subtle movements of your body against mine?
How can I miss these things I’ve never truly seen?
How can you miss things that have never happened?
How can I miss your arms around me, holding me tight? Your hand brushing my hair away from
my face, whispering my secrets to you in the dark, knowing that you are the only one that
matters in that moment?
How can I miss these things that have never truly happened?
How can you miss someone you’ve never met?
How can I miss this person that has never held my hand? Never been close enough to fall
asleep with, never shared the first moments of the day with, never been alone in a crowded
room with?
How can I miss you, though we’ve never truly met?
I think because I have seen your soul, seen who you are.
I can miss feeling these things because in my heart I have felt your touch.
I can miss seeing these things because in my mind I can see how it would be.
I can miss these things because somewhere in my soul they have happened.
I can miss you because you have become a part of me, a part I don’t want to do with
out, even if I can.