your shoulder blades kept me in place. I loved the smoothness of your shirt pulled tight across them, and I loved pulling you closer and clinging to them. That’s something I’ll always miss… your shoulders. oh…
I guess I still miss you sometimes.
Some nights you appear in my dreams. You’re either there for a moment, you pass by, etc. And sometimes we speak. These minor encounters in dreams are like bits of air—cool, crisp air that I’m reaching for over and over again. Unattainable, out of reach. But you’re there, for a moment. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes I smile. Sometimes you smile. And that minimal amount is...