He still exists as flesh; it's the idea
that's dissipated—: husband :—what was he?
But a word I loved? There is no panacea
for missing syllables: his body: we
all know what matter's mostly made of—: space
obtains—: One day I realized I beleive—: 
the space in everything is God: that force
of present absence: pen: expanse: I grieve—
] old fashioned: distance: squinting it into view [
between body and name—in here!—I'm loose 
as love is—: nebulous—: what good
this pointillism—: our eyes won't do—: 
Sometimes the absences in us seem so profuse, 
I wonder we don't pass through wood.