There's only one thing worth
missing that you took with you when you left.
It's not all our late night conversations,
not the music of your hugs or the rhythm of your breathing
when you sleep.

No, it's none of those.
The only thing worth missing
is feeling,
is knowing
that I was more than sex.


I told Terry this was the last poem I would write my ex.
Some how I think I lied.