Here Alone

Your voice still clings to my wall like a stain hidden by a hastily purchased painting I didn’t like even then. I peel it off and listen to it. The pain of you hurting both you & me lingers like the longing I still harbour for you now bitter now sweet depending on which side of the cocktail glass you are drinking from. You ambush me from books that bear your notation in your scrawly hand “Must show this to Donall! ” Or turned into a photo falling from P.42 and lie staring up at me just as you would do were you here now lie... &...stare. Here...an impossibly long hair camouflages itself as a thread of a spider’s web spun into the air like a money spider I expect to see you descend the stair dressed in nothing but a fur or announcing like a child: “I’m here! ” Or cornering me in the bedroom in the middle of own party “Ah, at last I got you alone! ” Now I am here without you and you won’t go away.