It always starts the same way.
"Hello it's been a-while."
And then half-formed regrets hidden under word layers,
wrapped up to
conceal, deceive.
A smile. Goodbye, farewell.

The ache doesn't come from parting.
Au Contraire dear one.
It comes from what-ifs, might-have-beens, should-haves;
and always the knowledge of walking away,
letting a part of you go,
a whisper on a breeze,
a prayer.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"