Those eyes,

Those lovely, piercing eyes

Steely blue and a kind brown

Showing their duality with just one leveled glance

Oh, God I’ve missed those eyes

How they would look at me so kindly

Never demanding more than I could give.

Never asking for more than I was worth.

And their voice,

So warm, and wide

Stealing the room’s air with a single sentence.

It’s aged a bit now, sits firmer in their chest

Just as mine does

I wonder how much we’ve grown

I wonder if they’ve forgiven me as I have them

Or if they’ve forsaken me,

As if I deserved it more than they ever could

Do those hands still grip the same?

Those tender fingertips,

Do they dance along someone else spine now?

What pleasures have they brought to flesh outside of my own…

Do I even miss them?

Do I even miss them?

Or do I just miss what we used to be…what we used to share?

The space that we would offer each other, while never really knowing how to fit ourselves into it, was so broad and forgiving.

Is that all that I miss?

Distant memorials of what we used to have, clouded and distorted with my own aged yearning?

An amalgamation of touch, sound, smell and memory

That I long to revisit when the moon has settled in with her stars? When I have settled in with my “someone else”?

One hello wouldn’t hurt

A single word after years of silence might shatter the ice built between our tongues.

Yet,

My chest grows tight at the thought of greeting them again

Of meeting those steely blue and kind brown eyes

Again.

Would they want to meet mine too?