Sensucht
I miss you.
I don't like to admit it,
and in some ways
I fight it.
But then you're there
with your big grin,
and I can't stop looking.
Because I missed you.
I keep missing you.
It's not all consuming,
or gut wrenching.
It's just there -
in the back of my head.
It doesn't hurt,
my heart doesn't ache.
But I do find myself
thinking of your smile
in the middle of
a conversation.
The glimmer of your eyes
when I close mine.
And the burn of your hands
on my skin when
I'm alone.
I can try to fight this,
and what it means,
but it won't matter
because I miss you
all the time.
And when you smile,
somehow,
I don't mind.
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