in stasis…

I read my words

from that time

I cannot explain

what you stirred

in my soul 

as you adamantly 

claimed your departure

I only know that I was

at my most

beautifully written

ever 

admidst emotional 

unrest 

I read these words now

and I have no

explanation

of their course

or how their mutation

bound

in both

tragedy and heartache

becomes one more

version of me 

alone

in dark beauty…

In your absence 

I catch myself

again and again

writing what it is

you conjure in me

and still

I am not empty of you

what I feel

what you are to me

spills from my heart

I read those words

living on pages

buried underneath

a glass force field

you are ever more

as always 

engrossing 
gripping

my very nature

my sanity is questioned

can it really be

so strong a pull 

returning again

in the hours

in the years

in many lifetimes

to live

only than to die

each time in mourning

I am felled 

what I feel

what I write

remains unexplainable 

yet I too feel completely whole

when it is you I write

into existence

ink-breathed pages

formed from 

the depth of me

perhaps 

I can only remain

in stasis

exist as a beautifully 

lost moment

lay in ruin…

thirst does come 

like water 

for healing

I have none

nor yet begun

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