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"Saudade is a pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy." ~ Manuel de Melo

I sit in our room and think of you,
ponder your framed, steady gaze,
touch the circle on the wall
where you placed your head
during those days of propped pillows,
watching the Discovery Channel in bed.
You liked to learn about faraway places,
black holes, other universes.
I remember the hour you 
slipped into one of them.
You left your skin and bones,
keys, wallet, phone,
all your clothes,
the halo above our bed:
All the un-necessities
for this new place where you live,
though you visit me in dreams.
Are you an image on a screen?
You never let me see the other side.
Do you have some secret that must be kept?
I keep everything the same,
don’t even stretch my leg across our bed
just in case you want to slip back again,
though I know you won’t return.
I’ll have to come to you instead.
“We have to pay the price,” is what you always said:
The toll it takes, every day, to re-accept
this new arrangement that’s been made,
where there’s pain, yes, but also wonderment, allure.
I still believe you, and there’s more to believe.
You swore you’d never leave.


Saudade Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh 
February 7, 2019

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