I still think about
that Moment
when your eyes stopped looking.

I still wonder
what was that last thing and
how you found it so wanting.

I stopped telling people
that I miss you.
    So constant, I'm
    rarely aware.
It's there though.

Every tattoo.


Every bite of truly good food.



Every Shema held in my head
like a Meditation
on how I might have loved you.

I hesitate to grant hindsight such romanticism.

07/13/2017

Posted on 07/13/2017
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