In Absentia

Goodbye
Is pathetic consolation;
Inadequate to the point of being
Deceptive.

The memory of you
Dances on the doorstep
Of my thoughts.
And, fueled by amber liquid
Teases me, in times
Of contemplative melancholy.

Would it be, that I could be
Bereft of this subtle torture.
I deal with your absence by
Suspending thought.

There’s a worm inside of me
And it burrows, deeper and deeper,
Until I forget you
In sheer self defence.

But then you collapse
Into my thoughts again, unbidden,
Like musty honey chocolate
And I miss you again.