(no subject)

[synaesthesi_a]

I’m feeling your absence, even

as you lay breathing softly, face

pressed to a pillow that smells

like-

when it started, your odor

and I buried my face in it, pulled

you in, as deep as I could. Now,

it’s me, you pull in, but push

out.

I feel your absence, cold on my

cheeks, as the tears fade.

Abandonment, the smell

of your exhalation, now, when I

lean in close, nose to your lips.

There’s no polite way of saying

it.

My new of.

It’s what we

can’t say, and it’s of, ALL

consequence-now, because

you feel my absence too.

Though, you haven’t announced

it,

I know it. And I you feel it, and it’s

made of your absence and mine.