Her missing wink

I just miss you
Maybe a new disease of sort,
missing you has become a religion,
a one-man cult,
that begins and ends with yours screwly.
I just miss you
—all the time.
Like Bombay misses winter.
Or maybe worse.
I don't know.
I just miss you
I miss your presence,
your absence has turned into a dictator,
without asking me why,
before i even let out a sign.
I just miss you
Your fingers sliding into mine,
or my lips shutting up to your skin,
or breathing on your back
 —throughout the night.
I just miss you
as a river misses the hills,
as the sky misses itself,
as this poem misses poetry,
as i wish you missed me.
I just miss you
Luckily, i love us more.
Especially you.
As shamelessly as me.
And for good.