(A dietary conundrum).
We are separated,
and it seems that I can no longer
look you in the face.
I know that you would take me back
in a blink,
and I would love to come. But
four painful weeks have dragged by,
a lifetime, after which even your smell
is now a distant waifish breeze.
Pining, I am fading too,
I am less without you,
Isn’t that the point to prove.
© Graham Sherwood 01/2012
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