Apart

I hated standing

Six            Feet            Away  -

The depth of a plague victim's grave.

My body ached
     torushinclose,
     hug and hold
     You
     for a long time.

My substance is disintegrating
     from the withholding:
To feel the pulse of an Other
With One's whole form
Is a holy need -
     We turn to dust without it.

My flesh is blowing away in the wind...
How long can One hold on
     to no one
          before

               f  a  l  l  i  n  g

                                   a      p      a      r      t      ?