The last new sound I heard you make
Was the clink, clink, clink
Of ladder retracting on launchpad,
Swallowed by three thrusters roaring
Like some mythical beast
That took you up, off and away.

So I waited, and dreamed
Memorized security footage reruns
(So I wouldn’t lose your shape),
Sped my bloodless walkways through
The empty capillaries of
Parks and public buildings
Until they collapsed, irreparable.

I waited and waited and waited
Long after every scrap of paper
Disintegrated and fanned out over me
Like a coat of fresh snow that would never again
Know your boot prints, tire tracks, and skid marks.

I devised and ran elaborate models
Based on your behavior, kept
My imaginary hive buzzing, then
Wiped your shadows clean
From my broken streets and crumbling towers;
Sterilized my self-haunted hospitals
With pandemics and disasters unnumbered
(Oh so many endings we could have shared).

In partial stasis now I drift,
My billion eyes glazed, but open still,
Patient for you to rediscover your own reflection, to
Remember, reclaim, repopulate
These ruins you birthed, abandoned, forgot;
Swimming in timeless, dream-dark pools of data

Waiting for you to return.