My heart feels raw, chafed against the chill of your absence. The starkness of your truancy pronounced by the warmth it held just a sunset ago. Where have you gone, purveyor of my heart? And why have you not returned? Like a mouthful of sweet honey, I grew fond of each moment we drew near. I’ve spent all day craving its delicate flavor. Long hours under the rise of the sun remembering the last time I’d tasted it.

Perhaps I’ll spend a lifetime searching for that essence. Turning over bountyless rocks. Or maybe yours will join a harmonious palate that I can’t determine the difference between. Left only with gracious appreciation for the brief dalliance that left me with your ghost. Take care to linger if you’d like. 

The ceaseless cry of a tender lover. Rewatching nights of ardor for an idea of when you first departed. Looking always for answers to questions that we don’t share. Left with the shell of a heart that carries pieces of various worthy tragedies in the space that has been hollowed out. Beating like a sonar, it finds some way still to find solace in the knowledge that you’re out there, doling out spoonfuls of your sweet honey.