The scientists and the lovers too

There is absence and then there is this.

The silent, suspended presence. The way the saxophone mourns on my favourite song. The hundred little ways you stay. They said there would come an easier time, the scientists and the lovers too. But it doesn’t heal a thing, you know.

I suspect it merely drives it deeper.

inexplicable by Joanne Piechota
Image by Joanne Piechota @ Little Clicks

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied – Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

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