The Ache That Is You
by Allie Boniface
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Not rated by the Author.
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It is in the warm curve of the covers,
The toothpaste spatter on the mirror,
The pair of pants left hanging over a chair,
As if you are only gone for an hour or two.
It is in the pictures stacked on the kitchen table
From last summerís vacation,
The ones I meant to put away with neat corners and clever captions,
Where we are cracking crab legs and laughing over Merlot.
It is in the letters that still come addressed to you,
Though I have told the mailman you no longer live here,
The telephone messages that salesmen still leave,
Your catalogs from last Christmas with the pages still folded down.
It is in every morning I wake,
In every one-portion dinner I cook,
In the closet I cannot bear to open,
In the dog who sits by your chair and whines,
In every breath I draw and every word I utter:
The ache that is you.
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|Reviewed by Jeff Mason
|Wow... this is the kind of longing and yearning that hits in the gut. I especially love the touch of the dog - that really, ahem, gets me. -- Jeff|
|Reviewed by Joyce Bowling
|What a beautiful tribute of love and loss. Very touching, sad, very well written, enjoyed this one much!
|Reviewed by Michael Mathieu
|A painfully written poem.To lose the one you love, a tough thing to get over. loved it.
|Reviewed by Rusty Daily
|Allie, this is an amazing well written and emotional poem.
|Reviewed by Sherry Heim
|This is painfully paralyzing, Allie. It is hard to know if it was a death or someone who just suddenly, without any prior warning, walked out of her life. Locked in a vacuum and incapable of forward motion, she is tossing and turning in a dream that has no end. Fantastic offering!