I miss his smile and when he laughed out loud,
but I don't miss cryin' all the time.
I miss his voice, deep and slow,
but I don't miss that he stopped pleasin' me,
like he used to please me.
I miss his hands, soft and strong,
but not their reluctance to hold mine.
I miss his eyes, dark and deep,
but not how he couldn't see me.
I miss the joy on his face when he listened to music,
but not how rarely it seemed he heard the words I spoke.
I miss how he held me close,
sent me songs and told me secrets-
and I miss how he called me lil mama.
Oh how I miss how he called me lil mama.