EACH MORNING, THIS PAIN

Each morning this physical

pain in the abdomen

a manifestation of

the mental anguish

as it all comes back

with consciousness;

I remember thinking

how it was for you

the waking into impending

mortality, you

beloved one who left

first; it must have

had something of this,

only stronger, more

hopeless. To

you, also beloved who

left later,

suddenly, if hours

of chance lost

is that and not

time extending endlessly

until it touches

the brane of my own dying,

I woke you from your

dying sleep to your death,

to a moment like the

one I live in on each morning,

only you had lost words

before that fading of breath

yet your eyes speak

still to me of that

moment's knowledge.

Your absence in the fabric

of existence has

shredded what remains

and sharp, spiked shards

of what was tear my guts.

14.08.2019