A head unclouded, to think on my feet
A gaze surrounded, enveloping all it sees
A heart resigned, to grieve its own passions
A faith unbridled, by doubt or greed
A thought jumbled, but content to be unsettled
A strength confounded, in its desire to be unnecessary
A curiosity ignited, with the right kind of hard questions
A smile unpoised, stripped of gratuitous pretense
A love unaccustomed, jubilant with the unknown
A hunch embedded, begging to be true
Is everything that is missing from me.
In French, you don't say "I miss you." You say "tu me manques," which is closer to "You are missing from me."
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