Mostly I remember you in the greasy half light of diners,
In places we miss and in places we longed to see.
You looked at me with dark eyes,
like subway tunnels, disappearing into other worlds,
places we imagined we were part of.
Yellow plastic seats pulled me away from you.

And we watched with eyes that had never seen snow,
a silent world, trucks cleared it off all life
and it was just us, in a frozen sea, dreaming
of that place we both miss

And now I miss you with my legs,
with the tips of fingers, with the ache in my lungs
and with every footstep I take that is not towards home.
I miss you with each heave of the tide
and it ways we can't find words for.

And as the snow falls around
the noise it makes is empty
and your searching eyes consume me.