Love

And it feels like when the party's over 
and everyone has left. 
Empty, silent spaces. 
Each object speaks its story 
connecting me to you. 
A soulful echo stirs the neap-tide 
of my mind, sets me on a 
course of reminiscence. 
I miss you. 
And I'm communicating in semaphore 
while you use chopsticks; 
will I be understood? 
And all your life, you've had 
another name; 
I was unaware of your presence. 
Beautiful memories jostle 
to surface and before long 
you are with me again. 
I'm not worried 
only "holdy-breathy". 
And I miss you.