Laying in a half-daze, a quilt half-up my neck
Watching love fall between a glance; just a glance
And there it is— a mere echo (intangible after a thought)
But I felt it.
A second; doughy between my fingertips
Nostalgia— smoke swept ashes
A flood (of kissed midnights and dewy suns)
A look that never was
A kiss that should’ve been
A bottle of could-be’s, a sip of a would-be
Those leftover should-be’s
A voice: Can you miss something that never was?
A verdict: Yes. Terribly so.
Can you lose something you’ve never had?
As much as this feeling is true.