Everything

Everything
Reminds me of you,
The guy at the grocery store 
Who stares at me unapologetically until I meet his gaze.
The talk show host who’s going grey handsomely.
My father.
				Let’s not unpack this.
You are everywhere
And I have no right to know your location,
Or what you ate for breakfast.

				In my mind, it’s an apple and
				Coffee that’s too hot for you to drink, but
				You sip it, anyway, thinking that your stoicism will stave off the burn.
It’s like having me in your presence,
All dressed up like we’re on a date, but
We’re here to talk about people who do the same things that we do.
But the coffee's too hot to resist putting your lips against it.

It’s lonely to examine words 
on your own
And I miss you for it.
		                    I miss the way you looked at me, as though
		                    You were waiting for me 
To say more.
	       		      I miss the feeling of friendship that 
	       		      Only existed when we spoke
	       		      And the intimacy created 
                              Between our understanding of language
And its cadence.
I miss how inexperienced I was 
Around you and
How unafraid of me you were.
				My fires were there for you to temper
				With knowing and gentle hands
				You made sure they kept you warm and burned what needn’t to exist
				On paper, at least.
I know you miss it,
The heat your hands felt
                                                                                                                                  I do too.
				I know when you read this poem, you’ll think it’s about someone else, 
       but it’s not. It’s about you.