I Miss the Future
Missing what’s yet to come
“Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future; faith is the courage to dance to it today.” — Peter Kuzmic
A poem
I guess I miss the future.
I miss the way you’ll touch me and hold me forever.
I miss the concerts we’ll attend, all in cities we don’t call home. But it feels like home.
I miss your tight embrace when I’ve had a long day and need nothing else but you.
I miss all our secrets we’ll hold — having our plethora of inside jokes to boot.
I miss the sand that’s going to squish itself between our toes on the beach as we watch the sun rise and then, as we watch the sun wave us goodbye.
I miss the constant reminders you’ll give me, assuring me you aren’t going anywhere: and nor am I.
I miss the butterflies that will fly around in my belly every time you fucking touch me as you stare deeply into my eyes that can’t stop gazing back into yours.
I miss the way you’ll dip me down under the dancing palm trees as the moon glistens onto our skins, whispering sweet nothings unto the airs swimming gently around us.
I miss all the glorious laughs we’ll share, as we discuss how beautifully crazy this world truly is.
I guess I miss the future.
And so I choose to dance today, hopeful the music of the future will eventually be heard, playing itself quietly in the distance and then, growing louder with every fleeting step.
