A Choreography of Absence

Absence
is a word
filling the void in me
Only one word
perpetuated by Time
and I'm trying to live
with no pain.
Absence
is what makes up my no pain world.

Absence
of those beloved
filling enclosed moments
which were like a feast I gazed upon
through the eyes of a happy child.
Gazed upon
the beauty of decaying fruits
under the trees bordering the alleys
where I was once grafted to the earth
and watched the slender meandering bodies
of worms performing their dances.
Alley's running among the trees
whose length's now
measures up to my solitude.


Absence
of those beloved
filling enclosed moments
which were like a feast I gazed upon
through the eyes of a woman in love.
Gazed upon
in the sometimes confused thoughts and feelings
and sometimes in the clarity that comes
in the repose between two love makings
a clarity letting you see
that there is no blossoming
no growth and no alleys
where run wild and happy
no worms to perform any dance
but the one of absence
of a shadow
I'll perpetuate in me.

Absence
filling up the void in me
conjugated to those sorrows
that Time is inseminating
so inevitably
in all of us.
Alleys, now virtual
where loitering brings
happiness of a virtual kind
much like x's send by text
mornings and nights
substituting kisses
the warmth of which
can't be performed
by the silvery, cold
and flickering screen.
The eyes, now of an older woman
see through it
only a left over impression of
last night's moon.


Absence
that makes you think
that Life is just a street,
sometimes a leafy quiet avenue,
other times
a busy highway,
the encounters with passers-by
come and fade away
and though some shadows remain
Absence
is the permanent feature of that street
in which I came upon a Shelter
with bread, cheese, wine
and love and passion
and it was a feast
to gaze upon
to include
in the alleys of those enclosed moments
loitering the memory
in which virtual worms still perform
their meandering dances
in boneless bodies
grieving absences
perpetuated by Time.

Flora