The day you departed, even clocks surrendered
their delicate mechanisms to rust, and it is
remarkable how absence weighs more in my
hands than your presence as body ever did.

I wander rooms where your shadow refuses
tenure, touching doorframes as relics tender that
once caught your profile held strong in my gaze,
but now this shape is fuzzy in the terror of loss.

Perhaps grief travels its supposed linear paths
but mine are spirals and fractals, ever spinning out,
and finding you in coffee cups, bedroom dreams and
rain-badged windows in memory’s strange paths.

 

20/4/2025