I miss your teeth,

the rain on our faces,

teenagers getting drunk.

I break down to tears

in unexpected corners —

dancing, in silence.

It’s not only your dimples that are missing —

it’s the growth I had to do alone.

I don't remember your birthday.

I learn from strangers about a ghost.

In the sunshine, brightening my existence —

your heart, the seasons, spring again,

the capital A, and the one in lower case, long gone.