I guess maybe it would be
a little cliche to say
your leaving ripped off a chunk
of my still-living flesh.

I think probably a lot
of women have said that,
or at least felt it in the dark
stretches of the night

when every last thing is cold,
incurably so, and their bodies
reach out to anything
hot and alive, when wine

is not enough, makes it worse.
You'd probably chuckle
at my excess and hide a grin,
but I am denied even that.

I guess maybe it would be
a little cliche to say
There are other fish in the sea
when I am drowning for lack of water.

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Arios, in the year 96 MA.