I am already aware of how I'll feel when she is absent.
I ponder words to write to her, for I have promised them.
but I cannot conjure poets from a distracted heart.
It whispers in my head ..... I will miss her.
I anguish that the sound of this will ring with the color of excess to her,
for surely so short a time over the clock of days could not matter so.
But I stand before my heart's mirror and echo it's reflection....There are no words, for being this lonely.