She is gone
and that thrills and frightens me.
I’m not used to her absence.
Walking upstairs after breakfast
I look round to see if she is following.
I catch sight of her
and turn my back.
I long for her.
I cry for her.
Then I mourn the fact that she is gone once more.
But I can’t let myself have her.
I am still remembering my lost youth.
It makes me tremble to know I wasted so many days.
How could she does this to me?
We are over.