I wanted him to be there -

that strange man with curling lip,

sitting at my kitchen table

first thing in the morning.

I willed him to come,

even as the coffee machine bubbled

and nearby toilet flushed.

I wanted to see his curly black hair

settling on his shoulders -

as he flicked it back.

I closed my eyes against the world,

the day ahead unwanted,

the sinking dishes ignored.

I could almost sense him...

his careful smile -

a glimpse of future promises.

His strong persuasive form -

all at once an enveloping presence.

With slight sighed breath

and reluctant action, I turn...

to an empty chair