Absence does something to the heart,
and while you were gone,
I balanced its workings
against my forgetfulness,
lest the soft drumming memories
in my burdened chest be drilled
away as angry metal to concrete,
replete with the chiseling
of your exit.

Absence does something to the heart,
and while you were gone,
its hold would conjure the best
days against the soft rays
of sparkling hindsight,
melting away the stony corridor
lining the path between
yesterday’s reminiscent smile
and today’s familiar hurt.

Absence fondled my aching heart
while you were gone,
making a home in its chambers,
settling, cleaning, applying time
to bandage the tissue
needing healing,
and the something it did for me,
made me fonder of the freedom
you threw at my feet
once you were gone.