The ´L´ word(s)

Long before these streets awake I keep
introspection against Autumn´s skies of gray- -
venting, breathing
in silence, trudging upon thin ice,
acrostically (!) yours but without you:

Like last time
all through the night, holding your
body tight against mine up until
a word was said, or written down and now,
tempted by oblivion, I feel no
end to this emptiness, to life gone astray.


Why do I still have so much to say to you, and since when has this séance of mine become such a danse macabre in the first place?

in other words:

Q: “What´s that you smell of?”
A: “Echoes.”