Gone

When he’s gone,
there is a moment when
his shadow registers as
its own kind of presence,
a hole in the shape of him.

When she’s gone,
she’s just gone.
Gone, baby, gone,
instant as a vapor.

Funny how two people
can have such different
ways of disappearing.
It’s as if they’re in two
entirely different states
of matter.

For NaBloPoMo and PAD Challenge, Day 9 (prompt: When he’s gone).

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