Absent
I don't love you for your wit
You're always spitting bile.
Reluctantly I now admit
I do not love your smile.
Nor do love your manly touch
And I don't love your smell.
I just don't love you very much,
So why's your silence hell?
I do not miss your lilting voice,
Nor do I miss your kiss.
I've never seen your laughing eyes
So what is there to miss?
I don't love your hand in mine
It's strictly for the birds.
Without your love I'm doing fine,
But how I miss your words.
Copyright © Maggie Huscroft | Year Posted 2006
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