Every sentence I utter

After Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Every sentence I utter is like

clumsily, chromatically, falling down the

stairs. Miss you. Miss watching you walk down the stairs

in your nightgown. Miss your nightgown,

blue and wide and white and cool

and perfect for summer nights. The closest thing

to perfect was our summer nights. Miss you

laying on the sofa with your feet up, laughing at your own jokes. Miss your laughing.

Miss your jokes. Miss the way you say "Gawd!"

when I've scandalized you. Miss you scandalizing me

after a few glasses of wine. Miss your "I think I'll just

have one glass of wine." Miss your glasses, how you'd

fall asleep still wearing them, with your bedside lamp

still on, the dog curled up by your feet. Miss your feet,

your toes painted pink. Your toothbrush still stands

by the bathroom sink.

Kavya Krishnamurthy