You’ve been missing from me of late.
A distant memory tells me that you were there, once.
Bright, longing, wanting – then you slipped away
I don’t know why you left me.
Only an anthology of poetry could unriddle
that mystery. I cannot fathom what I did wrong,
if I did anything wrong. . .
I recall your eyes,
so heavy, so light.
So healing to look into.
A dilemma I couldn’t immediately solve.
But when I wanted a solution,
you faded; evaded without resolution.
Perhaps it was me. Too pushy.
Too insistent. Too much blind love
and not enough careful thought.
I love too much or not at all;
that’s where I fall.
Am I sick in the head, criminally insane,
or do you draw your joy from my pain?
My love for you comes in storms.
Short-lived, excessive, then calm.
Until my next dark cloud.