Your Picture

I sit here and look at your picture, my finger tracing your cheek, your jaw, running over your lips. Talking out loud to you, like you can hear me. It's like your eyes are looking deep into mine and that you know, somewhere, in the recesses of your mind, that I'm in there too.

I've memorized each feature from your hair to where the picture ends. I know every laugh line, every spot where there is variation in hair colour, every inch of you.

You're so close, it's almost as if I can reach out and touch you. And I so want to touch you, my darling.

Trying to decipher your thoughts while you took the picture. But only seeing the love in your eyes and that's enough. It sustains me.

Just looking at your picture, losing myself in your eyes, leaving a piece of me somewhere, subconsciously, in your mind.