Shreds: “Rachel”

And already I miss thee, to say ‘tis much.
I breathe only out of weary old clutch.
Dreams of plastics, iron and asbestos decay,
Tears behind masks that wear through the day.

As when thou takest me hand without ask
Or turn behind, in the shadows we bask;
Seems yet yesterday I knew them anew
And smiled at thee from the glass pane view.

Now thou speakest, listenest, speakest again
And already I miss thee, ‘tis now a sharp pain;
The days are slow, reluctant to come
And upon me heart, like cement, they drum.

Thou art of blood and life, pure and sincere,
And e’ery smile brings the freshest of cheers.
I weep for my errors, at night, I lament,
But thy voices, even here, brings sweet content.