Absence

The most painful reminder I have of you

Is my empty bed"untangled and clean.

The bedsheets without your limbs

The pillow devoid of your perfume.

I long to wake in fumbling arms,

Awkward in their hunger for flesh and warmth,

Legs twisting and locking into place,

Like puzzles so imperfectly made.

But the bed no longer has your shape,

The outline of your willful body fades,

With each passing day--

I still reach for you.