Superman, gone.

With little fanfare
Outside my heart,
Inside my mind,
You,
My superman was gone.

With sleep embedded all over,
In the most still twilight,
I noticed your shoes were
no longer by my door.
There was no crumpled shirt,
or dirty socks on the floor.

Like some ill willed wind time thing,
You were gone.
No words,
No sad songs to sing.
But, like the night
giving way to the brutality of the sun,

with no good byes,
no sweetness whispered to me in my half sleeps,
you were my
Superman, gone.

I hold my cheek,
I wonder if you kissed me there
stooping as you buttoned your shirt,
fast and tentatively like you always do.

I need your hand,
I need your step and gait,
and your soft sleep murmurs
and your light snore next to me.

Where have you gone?
What is your plan?

Days pass and nights bleed into them,
Open wounds on my heart.
Movements I cannot contain.

I find things,
an ashtray,
a bottle of merlot,
a lighter,
underwear tucked into my laundry basket.

tragic things.

Who will wash for you now,
or cook,
or clean,
or mend,
or rub...?

Perhaps,
She has something
I could not proffer.
A stance you needed,
That I could not know.

All I do know,
This house is no longer a home,
These notes don't create a song,
My hand isn't steady at all,
and, you are my broken memory,
my Superman, gone.