On Missing You Too Soon

by HemmingPlay

I find myself imagining
how the differences will
play out…
The unfamiliar,
lengthening silences,
stretching into the dusk.
The way dust devils will
gather in corners, waiting
for something that
will never come.

I come into a room and
think, what will it be like
without your presence,
without your questions,
without your …..
without you.

You’ve been part of the story
for so long I barely
remember another time,
skeptical of everything,
leery of risks,
but a giver of chances,
of kindnesses,
of ambiguity.

And I find myself
imagining, finally,
in brief, painful bursts of knowing,
that when the ordinary ends,
when you step through a portal,
and close the door behind you,
it will not reopen,
even long after the
echos of our life together fades
and the sound of your voice
is but a fragile memory.

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