When I think about you
it is always with a little ache
in my chest
because I miss you so.
It is so strange
what brings you back to me.
An old photograph
a saying
like one of the dependable ones
that used to always grace your lips.
The sound certain cupboards make
when they close
just like the ones in your apartment.
Seeing children feeding ducks.
But your memory will always be
like so many others
bittersweet.
Because it is so flavored
with tender kisses
and gentle words
and kind touch
that I cannot help but regret
how much I took you for granted
I expected,
like so many shallow childish hearts
that you would exist forever.
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