Mirrors of Encounters
Absence, absence, this horrid absence
in all shapes and tastes.
Big, sour or small, luxurious,
stern, lascivious, poor or tall
Empty eyes,
ceaseless landscapes without face
unmet posts
pile of photos after photos
words and afternoons deserted
written or unwritten joys or woes
All the same…
Absence is the relentless destination.
The ubiquitous sickness
The eater of it all
Yes…
Everywhere I go
I meet the absent you in me.
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