Her

I haven’t left her, yet I feel not her presence.

Her gaze hasn’t left mine, yet I feel her sight is not with me.

Her sweet voice, like the singing of a nightingale, speaks to me softly, but falls on deaf ears.

Her gentle touch, caresses me softly, gently, but my body is numb.

For I cannot see her piercing gaze, feel her breathy whisper, or her enticing touch,

because she is only a dream now, a vision, a memory.

A figure I vaguely remember for she is not with me but forever, gone.