Poem 81

I hope he reveals.



Come to me?

I call.

My cries you ignore.

My bed, a wasteland.

I wonder where you are,

To which port, into whose arms?

I loved the thrill

The expectation

Your words soothed me,

My anxieties you calmed,

My fears never realised.

Your protective arms

I miss their strength

Certainty, comfort,

I long for your return.

My heart aches

A throbbing reminder

Of my loss.

Leaving me

Devoid of all emotion

A shell, a vessel taking water

Ready to sink below the morass

I now flounder in.

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