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Your silence cuts me
like a million grains of sand
whipped to a frenzy
by an ill wind,
cutting down all in it's path
tearing and uprooting trees in
the once lush oasis.

It cuts me like obsidian knives
black as moonlight,
reaching into my skin and heart
like some forsaken priest
of a dead, starving Aztec god
in colors of crows and peacocks.

It sours me inside
like wine in a barrel
gone bad with brett;
dreams of laughter
and the joy of good company
now to be poured down the drain.

Your silence howls at me
like hungry coyotes in the night
and I lay awake, in fear.
I miss your words;
I miss your laughter.
I miss you, my friend.
I am sorry for all I have done.