The Description Of An Absence

It was during that moment when my chest turns into an open space, an interminable length of time when it seems like a panel of chain-link fence gets peeled back, lies in wait for a surge of emotions to slip inside.

Then.  Just as my mouth rearranged itself around the poem's final words— "A wad/of cold sheets/on my bed"—it was then, when I no longer recognized my voice but rather the blink of silence following.  That's when I noticed him.

I'm sure I stood frozen in some exaggerated pose, arms...