The Missive
Why am I sad?
So bad at recalling your face,
or the texture of your skin,
hoping to keep some piece of you,
within.
Any thing,
as I traveled to Peru,
missing you,
and wanting more.
I wretched in a strange place,
not knowing where I was.
But I knew
I was
missing you,
and could
barely continue
this missive.
***