puzzle

sometimes
i still miss the way
we fit together.
you-- two heads taller
than me.
my arm around your waist,
yours around my shoulders...
no space between us
as we'd walk.
(holding hands
put too much space
between us
to bear.)
or
my head in your chest
-- a perfect indentation for my crown.
and my body molding itself
into my nook in your arms.
parts perfectly matching
like puzzle pieces
glazed with the industrial-strength glue
of a first love.