The Background

All I’m saying is that I miss it. I miss the way your voice swelled up under mine, interrupting my sentences. I miss the way I used to know all the people in your pictures. How I used to tell you to stay a while and you’d stay forever, how the world used to turn on the axis you named for me and how it all fell to pieces in my hands like crystal after it’s been thrown across a room, empty, levitating, pausing, breathing in. I miss the hype, the way we built ourselves up onto fire towers. I miss the way you made my t-shirt smell after we were together and I miss the way you’d always sneeze when it rained. The aching, the longing, the forced separation, always forced. The way we would hang off of each other like untied shoelaces and all the times you told me about who you wanted to be but weren’t over pizza. I miss the way my legs fell asleep in your car from pushing myself closer to you and I miss the fact that your eyes never stayed on one face for more than a moment, dropping, dulling, heart beating terribly forward like all the brutality in the world finally chimed into your mind. When I hear people sigh in that heavy way you always did I look for you, even though I know that you’re not here.

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