The Rhythm of absence

In and out,

Forward and back,

Like waves on a grainy seashore

Silvered by the beams

Of the wide, greedy moon

Toying with her flexible lover-

Pushing and pulling

In ancient cyclical time.

Left and right,

Up and down,

You tug at the edges of my mind

In similar regular motion:

Intense and gentle,

Yet only half serious,

You ply my malleable will

Into acceptance;

Then quickly pull away-

A clean, premature click

That leaves me unfulfilled

Yet unable to shake my desire.

These ghost-like appearances-

Phantom interventions-

chill and haunt me.

Your ethereal presence

materialises only in your absences:

Here, then not.

Beside me, then suddenly far away.

Like prairie grasses

Rippling and swaying

In the playful caresses

Of a mischievous breeze,

Then left in motionless expectation,

Waiting for the next breath

To set them back asway.

But the pattern has become familiar,

And loneliness, a pet vice.

So that even were I to break free

From this rhythmic circle,

My life would lie limp

and lifeless,

Dull and still like a moss green pond

Whose surface only ripples

With the fleeting assaults of passing clouds.

And so I live.

From absence to presence

To disappearance renewed.

Content to move along with the tide;

Feeling no remorse

And no resentment.

Just going with the flow,

At one

With the rhythm of your absence.