A Cliff Without a Fence

Your absence breathes her warm breath on my nape,

pervading all the spaces you are not,

your outer bound, her complement in shape.

I cannot see her face; her touch is hot.

For always, she is with me, try I might

to lead her to a fence on some high cliff,

without offense, and see which one takes flight.

She wakes my dreams of flying with, “What if?”

Falling awake, I watch her disappear,

a breath I breathed, a body I had felt,

two eyes I saw, a voice I used to hear,

divine impulse to kneel to, as She knelt.

The image bears no likeness born of you.

Who knows what I would do, should she leave, too?