though your words are gone, (your spirit taste remains)

i remember sharing prose with you,

though i never met you face to face,

we parted company across cyberspace

though i always felt your trace

of life within my thoughts

though i never met you

face to face

i miss sharing prose

i saw by electronic image

your still portrait avatar,

come across the internet

then you vanished gradually,

so much so,

like to watch a plant,

when it grows

so much so,

that i didn’t really notice

when you disappeared

i could not track you down

except to witness but a trace,

as the vivid truth and shock,

slammed me in the face,

when i read

at your abandoned post:

these pages are empty

how is it?

i thought,

to never feel the breath,

or voice

or sight

of a person

even through pleasant eyes,

or touch,

of such a one

across vast inter continental cyberpace

and yet feel a love

by sharing prose,

growing over time,

not the physical element

of companionship,

like with mere acquaintance,

but simply by the words

shared by the prose

to feel love,

stronger than physical

the intermingling,

the entertwining

of spirit minds

by sharing prose

so it happens,

the void

by missing such a one,

you’ve never met,

is real

it may sound pathological

to love

to gain a friend

by only reading their words,

penned of their feelings,

who then disappears

no goodbye,

only broken memory,

is no trite thing

by such a thing as words,

loneliness is overcome,

the sharing of intelligence

the ability to feel another heart

though separated to the edge of infinity,

as it were,

is no small thing

the words themselves

if they are gone

leave a deeply

emptiness of void

the words themselves

they were a blessing,

they made you come alive,

as if i’d met you face to face

your words were,

a salve,

a comfort,

of your presence,

a marvel in itself