in the enigmatic absence of your presence
you are looming on my mind
as if I were truly lonely
I start mindful sentences
that almost reach for utterance
opening the door for you and your presence,
then soberly turning to shut it.
everything is still in the sink
of where we were last together.
I now conjugate and parse movement,
since nothing said redeems this moment.
wisdom is somber and remote.
unshared, alters its worth.
walls appear to have echo potential,
that I can almost hear.
I have pauses
of enormous pregnant silence ever impending.
our private conversations in traffic,
announce in me this unsaidness.
coffee alone is now a mood,
standing tall and solemn.
having a meal and looking
at where my gaze returns yet vacant.
no spontaneous topic to verbally rise,
respond and entertain.
no idiotic skirmishes
over issues of placement or order.
no plans needing confirmation
or timing to reaffirm.
no sheer stark admittance
that I am totally alone either.
I am on this fast rollercoaster with empty,
seated right next to me.
ebbs and flows now feature
a placid silence of replies.
no sounds from a distance as an alert
of your forthcoming.
the work of your body,
not carving on me and much needed.
no body heat of recent remembrance
yet thoughtfully haunting in reveal.
I restlessly sleep next to where
you have gone missing.
where you are now has no immediacies
for me to consider for now.
familiarity now has these features
as if lifeless is on display.
I am now a curator of the recent
but somehow distant as a remote past.
on this internal lake we share,
rowing in unwanted circles.
it is somehow still quite wondrous
how impactful it all seems.
as now is lustrously,
the enigmatic absence of your presence . . .
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