I was wrong.
It’s like having a part of me ripped away
With nothing to replace it.
It’s only temporary, of course,
And life moves on
In its inevitable way,
Bringing with it old age and regret.
Those were the minutes we should have
Held dearest, the memories
We should have written down
As soon as their storm had settled.
But we were too tired.
And now we are too awake
Inside the emptiness
That is this four-dimensional vacuum.