It's the leaning I miss most of all
the gentle pressure of your head
against my shoulder.
the way that your laughter would
radiate
from the center of your chest
into mine
the way that as we walked
our shoulders would bump into
each other
as our hands entwined
and we'd just be close
I want that again
but the many miles
stay
keeping us
apart
and so we both wait
and make due with a phone
a feeble replacement
for touch
and we don't blame each other
we're both happy
we just always spare a thought
for our dear absent friend.
