The crinkle at the corner

I miss the crinkle at the corner of your eyes.

I want to hug you so tight that you say “don’t hug me to death” while you hug me back just as tight.

I want to talk to you.

I want to arrange my jumbled mind by laying my thoughts on you.

I want to watch your face wreathe into a smile.

I want to watch you furrow your brows as you process your thoughts.

I want to watch your weird hand gestures as you speak.

I want to rest in your company and your arms.

But we’re a thousand unspoken words and unresolved feelings apart.

And just like the day before we met, we’re strangers again.

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