i miss my palestinian englishman with tattoos on his arms and muscles playing across his back
i miss what the air smells like around his neck.
i miss every touch, i miss every peck

i miss my black-haired raven with a smile and a nose and a talent.
i miss our house and our garden
i miss our lovers nest, our closed den

i miss the father of my children,
i miss how he holds my heart,
i miss the way i'm always falling apart

i miss how he kisses me
i miss how he cries
i miss when we smoke, when the night comes along and the day dies

i miss waking up
i miss going to sleep
i miss how i fight, but he is not mine to keep