Lean Love

You’re gone and I miss you, quietly
  like I always miss. Quietly I think
you were beautiful,
   a silence I could fill my heart with,
a fall I could put my head
right under. I wanted your kind throat
and I wanted to be inside your head, just
listening to all you said,
  just listening.

A surprise to my golden-stung eyes,
so cleanly quiet and soft,
soft-spoken.
Felt your beauty from the faint clinging
of your t-shirt scents,
your sickness, your silence.
  I wanted your blue vein
and I wanted to be inside your headphones
  just knowing you. Just knowing you.

I can break my patterns, I thought
to you while you were lighting up
  and breathing in your share
of frenzy.
I like your eyes dilated, your torch weaving
like yellow ghost fingers
in the grass. I like you as a
shepherd, guiding me down the hill—
  and talking to me, talking.

Now you’re gone and I miss you, quietly

like I always miss. And what I wouldn't give
to be inside your head
in the silence--
   just listening.