Reverie

(poems go here) I miss the bird calls and the hum of traffic behind us as we danced along the horizon, breathing in the sweet, warm air. But I don’t miss the painful, awkward silence the last time we sat together. I miss drinking tea, surrounded by potted plants, reading travel books together, and picking out every place we wanted to go someday, once we got out of this town. But I don’t miss the dry feeling in the back of my throat when I stayed, and you didn’t. I miss the crinkly-eyed smile that crossed your sun-kissed face and curled your lip, and knowing that I was the only one who could put it there. But I don’t miss when that same face was furrowed and pensive, distracted by my mistake. I’ll always miss the smell of your skin and the giggly feeling when you teased me, and while I can’t replace that, I’ve found someone who unselfishly gives me all of their joy, But I’m sorry that it’s not you.