I
Gone.
But never
absent.
Dead.
But forever
alive,
in my
mind,
in my
dreams.
I can still see
your delicate body
hovering
above me.
Your bare breasts.
Your bare feet.
And I can still feed
upon the ghostly beauty
of your glowing face,
and still feel
my
yearning,
my
need,
for your warm
embrace.
For the
firmness
of your hold
upon
me.
Upon me.
I can still sense
your soothing presence
around
me.
II
I can still sense
your presence
around me,
and it disturbs me.
Stings me.
Enrages me.
For it is
incomprehensible to me,
inexplicable.
And I know it
could not be real,
no matter how palpable it seems.
No matter how palpable... it seems.
III
Why have you gone?
Why have you left me?
Did you feel my absence
around
you,
when
you most
needed
me?
Did you feel angry
with me?
Did you let yourself die
just to punish
me?
Did you miss me?
Did you miss me?
Did you kiss me,
in a final fantasy?
Did you address me,
in a last appeal?
Did you think of me
on your
deathbed?
Did you think of me?
Did you think of me?
Did you consider,
for even a
moment,
a singular moment,
my
desire,
my need
for you,
to stay
alive
with
me,
to
cradle me,
to
shelter me,
to
protect me?
Did you think of me?
Did you think of me?