Your absence has me looking at the stars.

Pulling the absence of gravity into my line of vision,

wishing it to reach my heart.

So the absence of gravity can keep my heart from falling.

 

Your absence has me writing songs.

My fingertips heavy on the frets.

The sound of steel scraping wood,

and bad shaping good.

 

In this concrete, undefinably permanent

infinitely hurting.

Your absence has me losing shapes of clouds.

They don’t drift gently the way they used to.

 

Sometimes it looks like they don’t move at all.

 

Your absence has my lips on another’s.

But no kiss can feel like yours.

Things for fixing, I pull those close too.

So the absence of things for breaking,

can keep my heart from breaking too.  

 

Objects for loving.

I pull those the closest.

Your absence has me wishing your touch could be met with something tangible.

 

Your absence

became an absence in me.