I miss the little things.

I miss sitting in comfortable silence
because that's so rare now

I miss the way we casually touched-
your hands in my hair
your hand in mine
fingers entertwined

I miss you trying to do the laundry
(You mixed up all the colors, but it was sweet anyway)

I miss the way you would run your hands
through your hair when you were thinking

I miss you making me a cup of coffee
because I hadn't had a moment to myself yet

I miss you

I miss taking off my ring to do the dishes
without feeling like I was betraying you.
This ring on my finger is meaningless, I suppose, now that the other is six feet under.