A Wound That Never Heals

It hurts me

when a you shaped hole

appears in the cosmos,

where there is

an absence of colour,

where the sound

scrapes along,

where the light

is masked by

dense grey mist.

That’s where

I miss you

the most.

When it rains

a greasy rain,

when the cracked bell

clangs,

when the planets

are misaligned.

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