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Box Five.

I miss the way you whispered into my ears at the crack of dawn

and the way your hands unconsciously found mine as we dreamt.

I miss the smell of certainty that lingered within the space

between your neck and your right shoulder,

which happened to so perfectly hold the base of my chin

as I buried my face and coincidentally, my worries.

I miss the texture of your hair and the way my fingers

choreographed their movement throughout each strand.

I miss the way you flinched as I inched

closer to your lips.

I miss the depths of your eyes as they flooded into my own

with just a glance and a smile.

I miss the waves we made as we crashed

into linens, into counters, into walls.

I miss the way you sang me to sleep

not with words, but the motion of your arms

as they wrapped around my waist

to tell stories of how much you loved me.

But most of all, I miss the false belief

That I would never have to pack away

These memories in a box,

Just to take them out and remember

How much I miss you.