space click click space delete delete delete

I have several drafts of texts I think about sending you. I’ll open one, read it, then press delete. Our seemingly forever has now turned into once upon a lifetime ago and I wish we knew each other the way we used to, not in skin to skin, not remembering the way our hearts drummed against one another or the way our breath wrapped around the inside of the other’s throat. This isn’t a song of lust. It’s a lullaby of crushed realities. I long for the silent ways we could sense when we needed the other, the closeness of understanding a human so deeply you didn’t need to say it and this isn’t a poem, just another soon to be deleted draft because I’ll never admit to missing you.