no words

no known metaphor
or expression
seems to capture
the depth of depression
as my eyes fill up
with the sight
of your departure:
split in two,
cut off at my knees,
none of these will do,
they cannot
how much I moan
deep inside
and find no comfort
as I watch the harbor empty
will the rolling out of the tide;
this sadness I hope
will be the last of my life
with which I must abide.

February 21, 2010, one last time for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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