You stood close and asked me a question. It was all rather innocent.
Standing there in that room, you asked my preference.

It was the way you asked the question and the look on your face that overwhelmed me.
And when I answered – that was that. It was all settled.

There were many other moments like this. I often think of that particular day.
Sometimes, like today, when I recall that memory, or most of the others,

I miss you.

So . . . everyday.

Everyday is like the others.