No Eldritch Love

A Year of Sonnets — 009/365

Photo by Seth Macey on Unsplash

If I confess my missing you, perhaps
some Elder God gone rogue will find his grace
and roll us back to better days, collapse
the hollow years dividing us, replace
my scar tissue with healthy flesh, restore
the things we lost: each trinket in its place
mosaic now made whole — you’ll find a door
‘twixt life and death, bid Thanatos farewell
and be here, lovely, as you were before,
alight in life, unbroken, hearty, hale
as you were meant to be, by nature shaped,
unwounded by the world, made truly well.

But you would bid me keep the world intact,
to dwell without you in the world of fact.