*************sigh ... this "formatted" far better in my head and came to life in microsoft wordpad in much the same form, but skews a bit here ... let's hope the emotions are not lost in formatting translation. :) 

I begin to say, 

well, of course I miss him, but ... 

then I see him on the white sand beach,

where we hiked a frigid winter's day,

no snow, just white sand powder, flurried, underfoot;

in polypro, warmth always to spare, he gave me his coat.

Of course I miss him, 

but I carry this blanket with me all days, all ways.. 

I continue to comment,

well, of course I miss him, but ...

then I hesitate, one night out walking in the park,

sitting, reflecting for a time in the picnic shelter,

on slivers of new wood, exposed on the support beam,

where he had flicked away the paint saying, "Mostly we'll be fine."

Of course I miss him, 

but I have this naked truth, new growth, revealed for keeps. 

Remembering, I murmur, 

well, of course I miss him, but ...

then each morning, in wake, I look to his pillow in longing,

for the living dream memory, his face, I know better than my own,

lying there, his eyes open in tandem with mine, speaking, without words,

as we summon each other forth, each day dawning, a step towards our future.

Of course I miss him, 

but I never sleep or wake alone; he is always there. 

Pressed, I offer up,

well, of course I miss him, but ...

then I slide a knife blade through vac-packed plastic,

releasing the scent of salmon, cryo-preserved, yet alive;

breathing deeply, I am at his fingertips, having mercy, hand-fed,

reminded, he never rests, is fishing on far shores, for our winter camp.

Of course I miss him,

but in all my cravings, I am never left to hunger, steady on shore.

I put forth,

well, of course I miss him, but ...

then I hear his voice on the phone, tuned in,

we were words first, will be words always, deep-seeded,

having just begun to explore our depths, together and apart,

a continual dive, barely scratching the surface of what lies beneath.

Of course I miss him,

but we are swimming, sea twins, synchronized in souls' embrace.

I wonder aloud further,

well, of course, I miss him, but ... 

then I take a shower, late at night, day spent,

lights dimmed, closing my eyes, sweet charade, as if,

we are taking turns, one to the other, under the heated spray,

washing our bodies in mirrored motion, who was who, is who? ... is us.

Of course I miss him,

but I see him, feel him, in my own reflection, he leaves me never.

Pseudo-brave, I report,

well, of course, I miss him, but ... 

I have only to hold my palm to my chest, 

pressing medicine bag firmly to my breast bone,

realizing he is in my medicine, I am in his, we are we,

and I cannot be weak, as he is strong for me, and I constant.

Of course, I miss him,

but something shared, finer than jewelry, lies close, rides our hearts.

I admit further, 

well, of course, I miss him, but ...

I have only to take flight out the door,

to sit under the stars in the white glow of the moonlight,

and conjure up a hypopigmented speck, on an intimate crease,

one small dot, silvered moon against the shadow of his darkened flesh. 

Of course I miss him, 

but he surrounds me, my moonshadow, night sky falling, his embrace.