She missed him
in her bed


missed the smell of him
the indentation


in the pillow
where his head lay


the silly
romantic things


he used to say
the kisses


on her body
every place


on her face


but it wasn't
just the kisses


or the sex she missed
or the way


he fired her up
on entering her


the way
he did each time


she missed of all things


the deep joy
he brought


the kind
that only


happiness brings
she turned over


and gazed at the pillow
where his head


once lay
the missing indentation


the dark hair or two
the sight of him


smiling back
after having sex


another time
(he was never slack)


she felt
his absence


more so then
no ghostly smiles


or gazes
just the white


dumb pillow
laying there


smooth and silent
like a sleeping sheep


she ran her finger
along the bed


where once
his body lay


that is where
his butt would be


and there
is where


we made love
that last day


before his death
took him away


she sighed
the echo of it


filling the room
spreading out


each bit of space


she thinks
he's still kissing her


first her body
then her face.

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