Missing Words

I wanted to write you a letter
telling you about youself, or at least
about myself when it comes to you.
But just after I wrote, "you have a
magical way of erasing my memories,"
I found a hole in the language.
There is no noun meaning,
"a nostalgia for the heartbreaks
of the past," not even close.
So I tried to write my way
around it but then I found no word
for the memory of the skin,
which can almost put your hand
back on mine. Even my thesauras
was no help. So I gave up.
What I need to say to you, I need
a whole new language to say.
That is way I would always look
at the unfolded letter of your eyes
and say everything but what
I meant to say and why, I think,
I read a sentence in your eyes
that ended in a long, trailing elipsis.