Why do I acknowledge them only when they’re missing?
A grey skirt gone, a desk mat disappeared in the workroom.
Like a hole in the heart, but it’s easy, the withstanding.
Then I notice an absent antique and the vanished cheap ring
on my finger. My favourite hairbrush that I need to groom.
Why do I value them only when they’re missing?
Cafés, cinemas, libraries being replaced. No more munching
on crackers that piss off the librarian. She had a nice perfume.
Like a hole in the heart, but it’s easy, the withstanding.
My neighbour’s letter, Grandma’s gift, Aunt’s dangling
earrings and my lover’s flowers: no more. I feel gloom.
Why do I appreciate them only when they’re missing?
College roommate moved out, my boss is quitting,
my lover left me, and Mama wants a divorce soon.
Like a needle to the heart, but, really, it’s easy, the withstanding.
And my little girl. Talented baker, favourite bookworm, reigning
Scrabble champion, partner in crime. Angels came after your doom.
Why? I always loved you even when you weren’t missing.
Like a knife to the heart, but it’s easy...
