He has gone – and for how long – only the night will tell.  I miss him in this place – I miss him close to me.   I play lovestruck, heartache, burning deep inside.  No one can know what it’s like.  It is difficult to describe.  And sometimes I just want to close it up – those lasting hours – until the tick click of the front door – and the shuffling into the room.  He crawls into this warm place – where I have wasted the night – sleepless and restless and aching like sunburn.  He yawns and rubs his weary eyes – while I sniffle – over trivial matters – that no matter.  He pulls me close and tells me – he loves me.  I was in the missing – and I look forward to the kissing – the sorry for the empty.  Only – now he has gone – and again – I am alone.

Jesse Falk