Count

Three months by the date
these ninety-two days
gnawing like underfed rats at my soul
each one a reflection of the one before
but worse and more desolate
than any preceding
and I remember the last words you said
as you looked me in the eye
told me you loved me
and smiled in that way that
made my world complete
in this time I have thrashed and flailed
against your merciless onslaught
of callous indifference
and for that I am sorry
Thirteen long weeks
my face a rictus in the mirror
of hollow cheeks and sunken eyes
my mind an abandoned battlefield
of lost dreams and beleaguered hope
all of which are worse
with every passing hour
all I do is miss you
and I miss your dog – and our walks
I miss your smile and your laugh
and your body and your kiss
I miss talking and your head on my shoulder
I miss the butterflies in my stomach
every time I saw you
that sense of love and peace and desire
and how you made every little thing
in my life so bright and filled with joy
in your presence the depths of winter
gave way to the promise of spring
and the darkness of night to the dawn
Now the skin hangs from my bones
and the bags under my eyes hang dark —
heavy against my sallow visage
Rudderless and listless in a sea
of lonely longing, I am adrift
my only lost hope the shelter of your shore

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