I miss you – the taste of your lips. I can’t seem to remember what they taste like anymore though. I told you that after we spent our time together, I would drink wine and feel your lips on the curve of the wine glass as if I’d found and been transported to a space that felt a lot like a home. A sort of space I’ve never stopped looking for, but could finally share with you. My hands wrapped around your thigh the same way – like the last piece to a jigsaw puzzle you never want