I will need the entire painting to fill the enormity of the space between us.
It is the touch of her hand, they way she sees me.
Her powerful eyes reading mine.
It is not loss that I fear.
It is the space in between.
The pauses between laughter,
missing the sweet smell of baby smiles,
the middle of things.
3 comments:
My heart is certifiably broken. I can't come to your blog without crying. This sucks more than I even knew it would. But thanks for making the suck sound beautiful.
I'm just glad I found a way to let it out bit by bit. Otherwise I would be lost.
There is a cure for distance...
I find saying the words
risotto, truffle, or saffron
crash, flower, or goose (fois-gras)
ice, wine, or one more wine
helps a bit.
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