The absence of days, weeks, of months.
The presence of hours, awake, of numb.
The absence of reply to anyone who matters.
The presence of chat Tinder, Bumble, Happn.
The absence of expression. No faces to see it.
The presence of emoji. No need to feel it.
The absence of pounds. In your purse, on your body.
The presence of weight, of wait, and weight.
The absence of nourish. The presence of substance.
Pain killer, anti-psychotic, nerve blocker, narcotic.
The absence of deep. The presence of shallow.
Second daters avoid. First date ends. Swallow.
The absence of touch, of kisses, affection.
The presence of fucking, oral, erection.
The absence of thought or consideration.
The presence of action, compulsion, endanger.
The absence of care. The presence of risk.
The absence of you. The presence of another.
Ostensibly you,
unrecognisable to another.
The absence of slumber, of sleep, of slept.
The presence of insomnia, of new dosage effects.
The absence of planning. The presence of plans.
Feed-me dates, doctor visits and wine bottle downs.
The absence of dark. Danish summer night sky.
The presence of light, never shines in your eye.
The absence of structure. The presence of repeat.
Starvation and binge, abstinence unhinged.
The absence of shower. The presence of prep.
Remove hair, grab a drink, basic convo, sex.
The absence of purchase. The presence of sample,
of steal, of to "borrow", of credit not granted.
The absence of taste, unless it's of semen.
The presence of biting. Check for feeling.
The absence of self. The presence of portrait.
Triptych of torso, twist, trauma.
The absence of heal. The presence of cut.
The absence of good. The absence of bad.
The presence of neither.
The presence of over.
Copyright. Rebecca Hallam.
Rebecca Hallam is an emerging British writer, currently focusing on poetry and short fiction. Originally from Greater Manchester, she lived and worked in London for 13 years, before moving to Copenhagen in 2020.
