Is she gone?
I still feel the wind rushing past my face
And the gentle caress
Of spring sunlight
But I don't see her
Anywhere around here.

Images of what's in her head,
Wondering if she's back
In Kengir during the Forty Days,
Or whether she's in Buchenwald.
She didn't seem herself
So I'm guessing it's not good.

And now she's gone
I feel any self-assurance
Slip away
And slither down
The street to die

I can't stop dreaming
Of what it used to be like
Years ago
First kisses
First tantrums
First reconciliations:
Is she gone?
That spectre that has been and gone
But always been here
And always held a hand out to guide me
In some sense

Is she gone?

I wish I had not been asleep last night:
I wish that I had found some half-fantastical
Night train
To take me to her
To take me outside myself
And make me weep
For whatever it is
That made her go.

It's not much good
Moping about the place
How can I embrace
Anything
Again?