The knowledge

She is gone and I am sad
It’s bad 
but I know that she will come once more
and with the key I gave her
open my front door
and step inside again
to bust me open wide again.
How many times I cried ‘No not again’
but secretly was glad.
It’s bad
when love hits you in the guts
and escape routes that you thought you had
shut with a dullish kind of thud.
It’s bad,it’s good
and when it’s oh so very good I could live forever wrapped within her eyes and whether I can hear the silent sighs and moans 
I really do not care.
She’s there I share it all with her.
It’s bad
when I’m glad she’s gone and sad that she’s not home
and she telephones to say
‘not coming round today’
so life goes on
How is that possible when she’s gone.?
It is.
I do survive
and when the clock strikes half past five and evening runs in from the day.
I want to tell her
want to say,
‘hurray look at me
I can manage easily’
I groan alone in ecstasy
I want her here alone with me
I cannot be
without her.


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