I just miss you.

You said you hoped our paths would cross again one day,

Knowing that the Universe is always growing,

Stealing matter and possibility from our lives.

The world seems so capacious now,

Not in a comfortable way,

As I reflect on how the absence of a Thing

Could feel so much like a big, big Thing.

I find some respite in knowing

That someday I will breathe into these spaces

And fill them once again with quivering pranayama

(I told you, mine is blue).

But rest assured that if I died tonight,

You would be the first and last breath to leave my body.