He Calls Me Missy

nor in the great moments

or in the moments the world remembers.

I desire you in the simple,

in what no one looks at twice.

I desire you in an ordinary morning,

with the coffee still warm in our hands

with your voice breaking the silence

as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I desire you in the everyday,

in what may seem insignificant.

To walk beside you with no destination,

to decide what to watch on a Friday night,

to stay talking until sleep overtakes us.

That is where my love lives,

not in perfection but in what is real.

I desire you with all my soul

and not as a passing impulse,

but as a quiet, constant and inevitable need.

I miss you with every passing day,

there is no rest in that.

Your absence settles into my hours and learns to stay.

Even so, I do not stop imagining an ordinary day

in which time returns us to the same place.

A day in which there is no need to remember memories,

nor to wait, nor to cling tightly in the distance.

Just to be,

to exist,

to live.

To be with you as if we had never left.