Between now and
when I last held you
lies a gulf of your absence
as painful as the fear of
losing you.
In every moment
I hear your voice
I see your eyes,
deep and voluptuous,
surrounding me in such love
I have only dreamt of.
Your phantom hands
touch and tease
my all too eager flesh
as I try and pretend
to live without you.
When in fact I am dying –
lost and empty without your
energy and love to sustain
my oh so tired self
in this world I know
far too well for my own good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem