I do not wish
to number all the ways
I want to be with you,
how your voice on the phone reminds me
of Georgia, how
the heat and condensation on the mouthpiece
draws me in
and drops me at your door.

We have driven with windows down,
you commenting on the scent of my hair only
with your eyes and the way they
don't quite meet the road.
I am missing you, the shy way
we both knew there was
love between us, never doubting
that in silence that was, in fact,
a heartbeat we could hear.

07/10/2008

Posted on 07/10/2008
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