Later on, it was a soft longing
though still supporting and towing
and it struck me that each moment
casts its net over all others
colouring and changing, rebooting them for favour.
Your laughter from through the walls
stroked my being out until – inevitably
His presence made it ache, retract
with a stab of stomach pain.
Or was it my own quirks of mind
performing amateur acupuncture
on the surface of a brain?
Then, a text of familial love
– four signatures, the only I will ever need
became unknowingly an epitaph
gave me moment’s pause, for warmth and thought.
And a slightly rotten feeling dawned
(gradually, over the whole)
reaching out and grasping me,
beyond the good and bad.
Why is he so horribly real?
and that, echo-friend, was that.
Everything changed, and nothing did.
I moved on, became a friend, began to read again.
Played less videogames.
And he disappeared, being as he was
A thing of my imagination.