this is not a love poem

i miss you in my sleep
i miss you at my doorway, smiling at me
        with flowers in your hands
i miss you gently dreaming next to me
i miss you on long drives
i miss you in every melody
& every time i sing
i miss you when i wake (from dreams
in which you never appear)
I miss you when you're close enoug h
to touch (but always out o f  reac h)
I miss you when you smile & si lently
stare into me
I miss you when I drink coffee
& every time i pass the sea

most of all, i miss the minute b efore
we met, before that opened door
i miss the way i felt before you
i miss the ground under my feet
because that night, you ruined me

no, this is not a love poem-
because i'm mad at you
for making me fall
completely, uninhibitedly
fooli shly in love with you.