They think Absence is a cruel mistress
A gorgon with brass talons who rends our bonds
And eats our hearts
Dousing flames
and snuffing out all the candles we lit together

But she is a gentle gardener
Sowing seeds of strength with calloused, work-toughened hands
Watering desire with the dew of distance
Counting day after day until the fruit of reunion is
Ripe and sweet and tender.