How can I miss you when we haven’t even met.
You, sir. My future. I know you. I feel you in my bones.
My morning bones, aching full with sleep. I feel you.
I know you. I know you in the way my hair fall across my face.
In the way my lips meet that of my glass filled with fresh water.
In the curve of my hips, I know you. You meet me, in thoughts and plans.
I miss you. You sir, a part of a past life, a part of a future one.
You meet me in the spaces of my mind, but not yet upon this ground I tread.
I am scared you have found something or someone else.
I am here. Reaching towards a future that is yet to be determined.
My aching bones a matching pair with my heart. Aching for you.
Aching for the content way you hands fit on my fuller thighs.
On the back of my neck, beneath my hair.
I can’t walk but think of you.