I deal with your missing by pulling your kisses from the little velvet

box on the night table. I kiss them in the silence of the room and

imagine you next to me. The fresh water I drink makes them feel as

sweet as wine. I keep a red rose in your pillow. Talk to her. To you.

While the cricket sings, the dove coos, and the owl hoots.

Recall all your stories. When you were a kid…fell trying to catch a

butterfly…scratched your knee when your Cocker Spaniel pulled you

strongly. When Grandpa told you stories about his childhood in France.

And your Grandma told you hers about her childhood in England.

Lots and lots of beautiful stories. It seems the world is full of stories.

And I talk in a whispering tone of voice. Because want to keep listening

to my good nightly friends. And here I go for another kiss of yours.

The little velvet box is full of them. I don’t need to worry about running

out of them any time soon. Bach in the background helps. I know you

loved him too. When after our love making would lay next to each

other letting the magic of music flood our ears for three brief minutes

before we fell in each other arms for the rest of the night. Oblivion to

everything but the stars in our minds.

Sweet love, I’m going to turn off the light now. No, don’t worry. I’m

going to keep thinking about you while listening to the rain. Love you.

EO