I find everything I want in someone, and she finds the same in me.

We speak soft in secret smiles and stares. Experience tells me to stay guarded, but I don’t. She pours her heart out daily and I cup my hands to catch the spill and rub her love in. I break apart, heal over her words, fortify my skin with the permanence of their sweetness. This world ceases to exist while I plant stars over her eyes as she sleeps.

But she’s Midwestern weather, changed in a moment. The absence wounds me. It leaves me missing her sounds in my ear and the depth of her eyes in the sun.

Above all, I miss the proximity of her soul.