Monday, May 7, 2007

you, gone

You, gone –
a gap in me. You
not here
I’m a hole

the depth a breath draws
in silence
before the sob, the gasp,

This gap oldens,
oldens me, oldering me,
mouldering me.
You, in my mind, young as evermore.
And youngering -- still.

The gap gasps –
the hole – howls.

When will this gap
When will this hole

When will I,
fugitive shouldering
a smouldering sun
breathe in our silence
and not be broken?

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