The Way You Detract

It is where the tall things are
That I have been--
Studying the stone,
the windows, the lights--
Should I not feel small?
Should I not feel meager--
For there are more hands
Than I could count?
But I do not feel small;
I do not feel meager,
As I stand in awe of
The contrast,
The walls,
The bridges--
Until I see the places,
The places we have been,
The places we could go.
And then I feel small
And then I feel meager,
Because you are not here--
For all the beautiful places
I breathe in when you are away,
Are ugly to me
Without your face.