It comes as this
a longing
a memory
short
infinitesimal
a use to
could have
almost
it is jealousy
and hate
it is fear
of being lonely
it is the breath
without air
it is me loving
what I know could be
it is simply this…
me missing you
it will not
change
not given
millennia
it will come
as this
waves
of hopelessness
