I felt small in your presence,
secondary even,
but in your absence,
there was a numbness gnawing in the back of my skull
etching away at every effort I made to relieve myself of guilt,
exile I knew I did not wholly deserve,
You were a wondrous man,
if only then I knew the questions of a thirty year old woman,
if only then did I rack my insides for hindsight,
but hindsight is a finicky thing,
it only works when it can no longer be put to good use,
And every coin purse reminded me of hard work I needed to do,
and every modern magazine mugged me of my purpose,
There was a listlessness brewing here,
and it had been boiling under my surface before you left,
if only I could lie beside you,
and tell you how much I loved you,
how I would love you for all the days of my life,
well into the ground,
where I suspect they will try and diffuse everything we had,
with different surnames on different slabs,
though I am too smart for that,
always have been
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