Monday, January 01, 2001

Longing

I miss the way you sarcastically roll your eyeballs every time you get jealous.
I miss how you'd slowly run your fingers through your hair...how you'd touch it as though it were the most velvety thing your fingers have come across.
I miss the way your nose wrinkles ev'rytime you burst into laughter.
I miss the tears that cleave its way down your delicate skin.
I miss the way you eat pasta; how you'd refuse to cut the noodles and slurp it down to its end.

I miss the way you snuggle close to me and never loosen up when the rain falls outside.
I miss touching the grooves and lines on your palms, as though there lies a secret message in it that only I can read--by merely touching it...our very own private language, so to speak.
I miss the way your hair clings to your face each time you sweat when we're jogging in the morning.
I miss your sweet scent that always turns me on.

I miss the way you blow your kisses in the wind, as though the wind could actually bring those kisses to me.
I miss the way your nails scrape my back when you reach your ecstatic moment each time we make love in the wee hours of the morning.
I miss the way you hug your right knee in an almost fetal position each time you read your cheesy paper-back novels.
I miss the way you dance--your two left feet and all!

I miss the way you change the CDs from my jazz selections to your Chopin and Bach.
I miss the way you "crinkle" your eyebrows and absent-mindedly bite your knuckle when you're absorbed in deep thought.
I miss how tranquil you look when you're sleeping on the couch, your chest slowly rising and falling in a somnolent rhythm.
I miss the awkward way you try to speak the vernacular, the way you cuss...as though those words were too foreign for your tongue.

I miss the tiny hairs on your nape.
I miss the love bites you give me on my chest and on my neck.
I miss your ethereal smile that never fails to perk me up.
I miss the way you kiss my bruises as though you were my parent and I your only child.

I miss the four-, five-hour phone conversations and e-mail messages.
I miss your soft, luscious lips that look so delectable in its moistness that I'd always wanted to "take a bite."
I miss the warm air that comes out of your mouth when you whisper your sweet nothings to me.
I miss the way you'd arch your back each time I tickle you.

I miss you...so much that it hurts.

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