i hate the color purple

kind-of-love

I hate the words "I miss you"

Because I feel that I should say them, too

And I like to mean what I say.

Yet sometimes I miss her,

And the music in my headphones

Is coming home to her.

And when my heart is monotone,

She's that vibrant beat.

You should see the way she moves her feet

And her hands.

She's the girl conducting bands.

She's a symphony.

She means everything.

So when she says "I miss you"

I say it too.

And when she laughs

I listen.

I run my fingers through her hair

And know that no matter where

I am, I'll remember

The way she twitches in her sleep,

Her hatred for priuses,

Her meticulous ways.

I close my eyes and I'm by her side

And she's making the food

And I'm picking the song.

I close my eyes and we're out,

Walking along,

Talking about all the hard things.

I close my eyes and slammed doors

Echo through my head.

I close my eyes and it's late

And we're reading in bed.

I close my eyes and

I love her and

Not the "I love you" text every morning and night kind-of-love,

Not the selfish, blow-up then burn-out kind-of-love.

It's that

Morning coffee together kind-of-love,

That slowness of heartbeat knowing she's there kind-of-love.

That screaming the lyrics to our favorite songs,

Slow to anger,

Saying things at the same time

Kind-of-love.

In sex years she's written centuries

Into my life.