Sometimes I can still hear him
His mouth brushing past my ear
Stopping a moment to rest
I miss the fuzzy feeling I had in my head
Or the bubbly sensation
I had when he held my hand
Sometimes I can still smell him
Hard work mixed with his Saturday shower
All that musk still fresh on his skin
I miss the cold hands that would brush my lips
Conversations that meant something
And laughter that filled my head
How my heart had been mended
By his so softly attentive love
He stood as confidant, friend, and healer
Showed me how it felt to be beautiful
I miss him being here knowing he is needed
Sometimes I can still hear him
And often I wonder, does he hear me too?
