Carrotsong I

There is a thing

on hot days such as these

as true and painful longing.

This pain is not so much felt

as it is unfelt,

in a sort of numb malaise.

 

And it is on hot days,

much like this hot day,

when the distance between us

grows into long-running miles

that I think I start to understand

what they told me in Sunday school.

Hell isn’t fire and brimstone;

isn’t torture and thirsting for death

 

No.

 

It is a pain that can only be described,

if words can ever do so accurately,

as being in the absence of Your presence.

 

Without You,

everything is dénouement

with no plot

or climax.

 

Hear it on SoundCloud.

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