I miss you
In the way the chest spasms
And lungs constrict in flailing gulps
When the body has gone
Too long without air.

I miss you
In the way the throat burns
With raw and cracking, gasping thirst
When the breath inhaled
Sweeps a desert within.

I miss you
In the way tourniquets twist
To cut off circulation, numbing
If only it will cease
The hemorrhaging torrent.

I miss you
In the way muscles fail
Mountains of cold, dead flesh
Weighing down until
It cannot raise itself.

I miss you
In a base, grasping need
Aching deeply in my core
Straining at my ribs
I miss you to death.

– s. Clark