I could twist and toss 

this feeling,

or throw it to the wind,

alas still, like your lingering presence

It will be there, etched on my eyelids

when I close my eyes on my pillow.



I miss you.



I’ve admitted it, alright?



I could imagine a storm,

create a masterpiece of

a world when you and me

are there.

But I’m left standing

on a cliff, calling out

for your hand, your love-

to the dawn-reddening

Western skies.



Nothing.

Not even an echo.



Forget counting the days,

In my mind I count you.

Your memories,

your skin, your soul

The laugh. That laugh.



My palms open and close,

the empty void of longing

rising like balloons overhead,

In no hurry to burst.

Do you stare at your ceiling?

Missing life for missing me?



Do tempestuous thoughts of us,

be your only company?