My Recompense

My every thought begins in silence; as  
The idea of his voice makes my bones quake;    
I idolised his cracked, red heart; this was    
Burned deeply in my mind and sensual aches,    
That float back to me in moist memories,    
Form sleepless nights, where minutes never end;    
It feels as if the black hours will not cease,    
Though dawn may break, and daylight can pretend    
To rule again, just briefly, before dusk    
Comes back to blot my head; sickened by mist    
That swirls into the murk, I must not lust    
For peace to rest; for I must turn and twist    
In every fucking way: my recompense    
Is thinking I'm still his, despite silence...