my melancholy lover,
she has gone and withered away.
but, oh, how she used to hold me
close to her breasts, and press me
gently into her body-luscious curves,
marble skin, silk hair.

and i remember
she used to whisper into my ear:
"fall in love with me, and you will
long to fall asleep forever."
it was true, because when our
bodies first met, i never wanted to
part again thereafter: never wanted
to leave her ever-softening cushion
of pure sadness, and confusingly blissful
reality.

but now my melancholy lover,
she's gone and walked out my door,
leaving her intoxicating scent all over
my pillows and bedspreads. and now
i lie in bed by myself, trying to teach myself
how to find warmth in the cold absence of another
(it is as difficult as you might think).

the passing of the sun and the moon
each night and day remind me how,
with or without her, the world continues to
spin on its axis. stars are born, and they die.
the universe expands. knowledge is honed.
waves crash onto sand, grass dances to a breeze,
ants hoard crumbs of leftovers, and these things
never change.

and my melancholy lover,
she is gone for good;
but sometimes when i lie very still
with eyeslids sealed shut, i can
feel her ghostly touch once more-

at those times i am tempted
to down a bottle of vodka and pills
because i know i'd be lying if i said
i don't love the way she haunts me
in my sleep.