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Now that you're gone
I'm left here with the rain
and a line from a song
that keeps on playing
The warmth fades
but your outline remains
imprinted on heathered tweed.

There is no turning back
from this deep sea,
gray and wide
Pulling me under
its highest tide
and thrusting me back
only to recede.

Where does that leave me?

The path ahead is unclear
blurred by duty and desire
But take me anyway
Where we're free
to tend the fire
and stir the embers
to keep it alive
before it's time to leave


go back to the other side,
to the present tense
The place where you reside
in the literal sense.
And when you're gone
I play pretend.
I'm the love of a traveling salesman
or a bard who tells stories
with happy ends.

What if I disappeared
like the rain in summer?
Crystal clear
What would you do then?
Would you pull me under
your gray wide sea?
Would it be the end of me?
or like a line from the song,
Will I see you again?

Here With You