66. Waiting

I am waiting for a friend today.
People keep asking what I am doing, sitting
alone
and I keep saying:
I am waiting for a friend today.

Saying it over again,
over again,
will somehow make it come true:
repeating it as my fervent mantra
over again
will cause you to solidify from my
daydreams
into life
and you will appear before me,
ridente.

All these things I tell myself
to pass the time,
to delude my fears, dilute
my yearning:

You did not come that day,
nor the next.

No, I did not ever see you
ever again.
Not that day, not the next,
no – never again.

It is so strange,
si – è strano!

You gave me the greatest 1 month
and 4 days
of my life,
but it seems that another lifetime
and forty days
could not fill the
emptiness, the grief I feel
at the would-have-saids and
should-have dones.

Time puts us further
away,
yes –
but even years cannot put the
distance away
from this perennial
heartache, this
permanent loss.
I still miss you today;
I will forever love
you.