I’ve lived longer than I ever expected to and believed it was because I was married to you. Now it turns out you were not married to me. You were gone from me so long ago. I wasted youth and middle age in longing.
Now I toss alone in my single bed. I am tormented by loss and confused by the passion roaring through me. It happens more and more even as I get older and weaker. It lays me flat in my bed, stony-eyed and distracted in my chair, breathless and despairing in my car.
This must be what it’s like to be possessed by wraiths winding you in your sheets and using you so thoroughly and intimately that they spend you and then leave you inside out.