A Whisper of Longing

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I miss her.

I miss her for all the reasons I don't.
I miss her for her autumn smile that gently squeezed her eyes
Her un ribboned hair that coughed a great deal of fragrance on my face
And complicated my senses.
I miss her for her easy ways
The tilt of her head in marvel, widening of her eyes in surprise
I miss her for all the cliche reasons I thought were good reasons.
I miss her for her silences
She had the voice of a nightingale, but she was the least talkative
I urged her to throw words at me, but all I felt was a vacuum. 
We sat there all alone, her and me
And I felt the world worked just fine without words

I miss her for the things she kept to herself 
She had been through tempests, bearing scars from the cracks
She was a shaken person. The most composed shaken person
I shook her back and forth and she held me.
I miss her for her dreams
She wanted to go places...with me.
She wanted to give the world a chance through everlasting love
She was my ever-last. The rhyme to my poems
The hope to my dreams
I miss her for her deceptiveness
How she seemed so sensitive but that she wasn't
How she was the most responsible but careless
How she apologized like nothing ever happened. 

I miss her for what she wasn't on the outside
She wasn't the average girl with average needs
She had a fire within her, I saw the flames only occasionally
They formed the traces in her eyes after a snowfall
The nature of her walk after an argument
I miss her for the way she cried
The dropping of her eyelids and twitching of her eyebrows
She fell from the clouds from far, far away
Just another drop on her eyelashes
And she merged with her own tears.

I miss her for the revenge she felt she was entitled to take
How she ignored every heart felt apology
Her walking away and disappearing away into a nowhere
I craved for her reasons, she showered me with accuses
For these, she didn't have good reasons herself.
I miss her for what she was
A presence, an entity, a god?
A shadow, a current, a whisper
An assuring nod, a hand on my shoulder
A genuine guide and selfless accompanist
Most of all
I miss her for what she was not. 

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