It’s so quiet without you here, without the gentle click of your feet.
I keep waiting for you to come around the corner, smiling with those tiny lower teeth, nuzzling into my calves for a sleepy morning hug.
I keep walking past the places where your bed laid, seeing the golden curl of your body as you rested.
Those soft brown eyes following me, always tracing the tips of my feet, slowly finding the blue of my eyes, ensuring I was never too far from you.
I keep telling myself not to fall to my knees as I once did every morning and throughout the day, to place my chest close to yours, to sing that little song you loved so much, feel that deeply satisfied grunt that came when I was close, like an internal howooo you’d speak in when your satisfaction was bigger than you could hold.
Whole body wriggling into me as if I were the genesis of the warm sunlight and course patch of green grass, a golden girl’s holy.
I keep whispering to you out there in the field of endless daisies, fingers caressing whatever’s close the way I once tussled that thick tuft of white fur on your chest.
I’ll plant daisies here at home for you.
The candle is still burning to ensure you’re finding your way my precious Bella girl.
Signs in the world say you’re safely near Tallulah and Jo and Rick. All the soft heart medicines of the plant kingdom revealing themselves to me, geese getting close to talk about the order of things.
You are everywhere.