Everything was so black and white about you.
telling
the story of clarity and morality in the world
never any grey realms
to sort out like spouses gone rogue.
People either struck the proper notes and
dissonance
didn't exist
or you were Stravinsky and you had some sort of free pass on
ushering in a new Rite, of sorts.
You held a space
like some sort of sophisticated therapist
parked
waiting with a tissue for the running emotions
to flood the chaise lounge.
And now you are gone somewhere else
banished
from my little world to some never-never land
where I can never see or touch you again.
But that isn't the worst part.
You were never about all the things he was about.
And now
it is as if someone
who once understood me is gone.
In your out of tune way,
You were always about
hitting
the center of the true note like one can with a Bach-Strad and singing "on key"
in a strangely Gramps sort of way,
meaning
charmingly lovable, yet off key.
Damn, I miss you.
