Mist in Darjeeling

I had nuzzled you once 

with the tip of my nose 

I can feel 

your soft caress

even in the recluse 
of my memories, 
warm and fuzzy
your touch 

This time though, 

a photo 
would have to do,

sent to me 
in a heart beat

catching you unawares

floating across
the house of memories.