27 September 2009

The You Of You

finding you

It doesn’t go away – no shelter
from the emptiness; a pure
and empty space invades what
used to be

A presence that was here remains
in truth, evades the cleaning broom
as easily as air – dispersing in the
face of it

And yet it stays as cogent as a place
preserved – a fortitude of memories
a physicality exposed as
naked truth

Senses are seduced in echoes from
a past reduced to ashes spread and
hasty footprints traced through 
nascent dust

But emptiness still grows when lust
consumes an empty eye for touch
and tooth and smell of it that
sadly fled

No sound can fill the space you
left so patently contused; without the
You of You this place bemused is
5 August 2009, I. D. Carswell