i miss having weekends with her

i've got no words these days
a bird came
and stole them all away
i havent quite decided whether it was an albatross or no
someone told me to be clear
i resent that
i am more transparent than most
look of my forearms
you can see my veins dancing beneath
these blue lines have not been pierced for years

i miss how she sleeps so deeply and stays in bed late when we visit with the grandparents

i miss hearing her voice

i miss reaching out in the middle of the night and finding her to hold

i miss her warmth

i miss the stiff arm dance

i miss her pancakes

i miss going to the library together

i miss her hands