I no longer play with that bit of fine hair on the back of my neck,
like you used to do.
I no longer let out a pleasant sigh
like you used to do, on that first hug after being apart.
I no longer do that fidgety thing with my fingers,
like you used to do on my back. I was never sure why you did that.
But I still keep you inside of me
not knowing how to let you all the way out.
I miss your habits. But they are no longer mine.
One day you may take all of your things and move completely out.
Then what will I have to cry about?
Copyright Suzanne Norton 2015