Touching, (In Memory Of Jean) Poem by Brian Joseph Dickenson

I miss the touching.
I miss your fingers through my hair
as you passed behind my chair,
I miss the touching.
I miss the way that I'd go weak
with your hand upon my cheek
as I drowned beneath the love I felt for you.
I miss the way it used to be
as you lay aside of me
and every touch you touched me was so new.
I miss the way that you'd react
too my fingers down your back.
I miss oh so much, your loving, tender, touch,
and the way you smiled your secret smile for me.
I miss the times we were apart,
when I'd wake up with a start
and find just empty space
in bed with me.
Now I sleep the whole night through,
Sometimes, dreaming about you
and the love we lost those many years ago.
I miss you