I think of you in moments.
In the spaces between seconds.
In the pause before I speak.
Before my breath leaves my tongue and before my lips open to let it out.
I think of you in the crack between the door where the sun comes in and I think of you when it leaves.

You asked me when I think of you

And I loved him with the love I refused to give to myself.

And he loved me
into hating myself.

And I think we were meant to be
In every life
But this one.