Reappear

I am empty of

your boiled metal taste in my mouth

I am empty of

your corners in that disembowled house

37 and dessicated and soiled in hard earth

I am empty of

your vigil, slow, cold and candy coated

I am empty of

your hoar frosted farmer's field

the proof of death in each wheatshaft headstone

I am empty of

your falling down

feasting blackbird's bitter bread

I am empty of

your distance between our skin

all that is left to feel



I am empty of you