Can you feel me
rush over you,
as I drown myself in your absence?

Void of color, my lips seep red
as I kiss upon the roses
that you placed upon my bed.
My sheets saturate by the blood of your thorns,
hidden by the beauty of your rose.

Your absinthe courses through my veins;
I am a slave to your elixir,
lost in the prison of my mind.  
Yet I remain within the labyrinth of the memory of you,
for only in my mind I know
you will not go.

As I look beyond the veil,
I cannot distinguish dusk from dawn.
Only through this absinthe
can I bear the weight of your absence.