Your eyes
follow me
rather sternly
in the Bar Library
where I sit quietly
from where your picture
now hangs,
your absence
has been made
present.
I can pretend
the half smile I see
playing
about your lips
the gold
of your voice
that I hear
ringing in my ears
aren’t just
fragments
of last night’s dream
and I can
almost believe
that any moment now
my phone will ring
and you will smile
and ask me about my day
and for one brief moment
I am strangely
content.