What is his without him






What is his glass without him drinking it
Or his words without him speaking it.
What is his picture without me touching him
Or his memories without me living it.
I must learn the hateful art of forgetfulness
Live the life of an un-present being.
I must in tears unwind a love knitted in many years.


K.Oni


Idea taken from a poem I once read, re-written. 

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