The absence of him cutting through my skin,
The ache razor-sharp, unrelenting.
Like a spurned lover,
The night weeps on dawn's doorstep.
Neither can remain in the presence of the other.
The hazy red of sunrise.
The wind in my hair.
The parting gift of the dying night -
Is a nip in the air.
And the glare of the sun,
A rude awakening.
Was I another Pygmalion-
In an absurd dream?
Doomed to love a mound of stone till death.
Doomed to long for him to awake.
Whilst he slept his blissful, eternal sleep.
Perhaps, after all-
He was never mine to keep.