I looked at you, appraisingly
And felt very little,
Could even call it nothing.
How could all those feelings disappear – and where are they now?
Lying dormant, waiting to be reactivated
By your hungry, longing glance?
Or gone forever, welcome realisation
Prompting utter disregard?
My inspiration has fled with the feelings,
So bring back the longing,
The anger, the aching, and the angst.
I cannot lose
My one and only muse.