Sometimes I miss
the roundness
the waiting
the before
the way you rolled
around inside me
like a kid
playing
under the covers.
A boy I know
sees auras
red strings
that connect people.
He is only eight
but I believe him
this idea of invisible thread
tying you to me.
You were inside
my breath
now you run
run run
and it is too strange
and wonderful
to bear.