the hole in my heart holds your shape.

the hunger of my arms

recalls the feast of your body~

now, there’s not a crumb of affection.

my lips fit only the puzzle of your brow,

the keyhole of your navel,

the glove of your mouth

and without these connections

have nothing to say.

silence inhabits the space vacated by your voice:

missed is not the quick laugh,

not the mindless humming~

those echo in my soul;

missed is the voice of the everyday room,

the words with coffee or lemonade or wine...

i am so dry without you!

where is my refreshment?

in the morning, i am a flag without wind.

in the evening, a meal without spice.

since you found a new road and compass,

my life has been full

of the absence of you.

~ Roy Anthony Shabla