the hole you've left behind
your very awayness
deeper than a star plucked from the sky,
ripe for life beyound each breath
building, rising,
rounder than the circle of light
burning, that bright orb shouting
into the darkness of closed eyes
hungered after,
the most delicious meal
planned, shopped, printed on an ivory menu
then cancelled
for tuna sandwiches on old bread
instead
an outing, the promise of laughter,
new flavors of ice cream,
the possibility of finding an elusive old book,
of roasted chestnuts in the snowy park
forgotten, shrugged off
for the episode of something you've seen before
a wrong once blithely innocent
the perfect misunderstanding
now sinister,
with maleficent intent, possibly
guns in purses
and knives in desk drawers.