When Gone.

I’ve lost everything
when your footsteps abandon the room.
When the door closes,
and the shadows still and fade.

Like pumpice; glittering concrete,
seeping out as red-water.
This heart has always been
like stone in solitude;
but now, I feel it cracking.

It breathes.

You’ve left your body
as a scent in my sheets,
and happiness, within dissipating syllables;
I hold onto them, but I am still not with you.

So,
like temporary heart-break,
like a half broken
porcelain doll, as the glue dries ;
I wait for your voice, across the other line -

‘Please don’t hurt me, like the rest.
Nothing tires me more than worry' ;
‘You are a worrier,’
‘I know. I am sorry.’