Today you left, and the world is obscured.

Grief is this train railing me toward the ambivalence of your
new home, and my loss.

Here in this place where you part,
my home is empty. Yet, my heart soars with what you were.

My teacher
My love
My friend
My companion
My heart

My heart that you healed when I was within the well of deep grief.
Your nose, tongue, and voice reassure me that

Love is not touched
Love is not controlled
Love is not handled and spun like glass into form.

Love is this formless deep place more concrete
than the blood running through my veins,
and the pleasure running through my brain.

Love is.

You were.

And you are my love.