
He left one day, never to return. I kissed him goodbye, not knowing it would be the last time I would do so. Each morning since, I walk outside to observe the beauty of the morning in the place we once shared. The sunrise fills my eyes but falls short of my heart.
I feel him around me. His presence follows me through the house, his shadow beckons me in the half-asleep moments of the pre-dawn early morning.
I whisper his name. Sometimes, I hear him whisper mine.
I feel his embrace, even now, so many months later.
Absence. Presence. Through love’s filter, they are indistinguishable.
The apricot sun brings him to me.
Love remembered is love born anew, I tell myself.
But I crave the hands that once delivered me into the abyss.
For now, I will stand here and love the apricot sun.