Sweet Pains

Through a veil of bitter perhaps and perchances,

Solace is—for all one knows—to be found in solitude.

I must admit, missing you feels like hot rain it

Feels like hollow airs that kiss the cornices of old theaters.

Existing empty and brim-full, “missing” holds a crown for

the sting that does but stir the heart to ask for more.

Since you’ve been missing, the sky has not stopped

Shedding tears over the still earthborne.

Those who live off dull echoes of once and before;

Those who have been missing you.