The umbra of a four letter word

By C.E. Laine

I cannot even say the word.
Its absence is utter darkness;
sucking my gravity in, and all
the light is gone, too.

I have no roots, now. Not one
thing to anchor me. I am a comet
grazing orbits of planets I can't name.

There used to me a million stars, but
they melted into that hole, with you.

Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.