I Wilt Like a Flower

I wilt like a flower
when You turn to leave.
Dessicated
and lifeless,
My breath,
You do thieve!

Your departure,
like a drug’s withdrawal,
that I must bear—
resist!
There’s not, I think,
a more bitter thing,
than Lady Death
to have kissed!

Only Your return
shall suck this sadness dry!
Only with Our reunion
shall tremulous sigh arrive!

I’ve no reason to swallow—
to feed this withered bod.
So return to Me soon
and fill Me.
I’ve starved, now,
for moments too long—
I hobble along,
unshod.