you without

if I may, no cure arrives in
time to contain this wretched
distance… faraway somewhere
you’ve gone and I cannot
bare the emptiness, the sudden
quiet and airiness this room
feels in your absence— a home
that is not my home and
this table and chair here
made in China suddenly seems
too foreign, clean and sanitized,
a feeling similar to anesthetized;
might I stroll in this space—
I cannot you without

© mr gahon 3/22/15

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About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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