9.1
October 1, 2022

Tonight, I miss your cold feet.

Tonight, on the couch, watching a silly movie
I miss your cold feet intertwined in my warm legs beneath the blankets.
I miss your open almond-shaped eyes
your long flat hair, parted in the middle
your elegant hands, holding mine, stroking my tired day out of me into togetherness.

But I remember how you came later and later to spend time with me. How you leaned away from me to go to sleep, in the final months, instead of gathering your small self into me.

I want to cry, and I am doing so.
I want to miss you tonight, in my dark home, that was our warm home, and I am doing so.

Waking up without you these past two months is a like a Vermont cold fog morning
And yet, like Vermont, it’s warm with remembrance
And it feels right, even while I miss you.

I promised my life to you, and you promised yours to me.
And now there’s just an ache in my throat, a hole where our future should be.
Our children shall remain unnamed
our arguments have ceased
the gaps in our togetherness have spread like water into watercolors

And tonight I miss your cold feet, and the warm vision of the future we gave up on.

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