Bidden Back

The streetlamp held the dusk of dozens in its glare.  You passed under it like a shadow, resistant in existence and inherent to substance.  I caught you by the trailing tail of your handbag, but before you could turn round, the grit of the ground snatched you up like crisps, and I heard your footsteps merge with the clattering of the night.

Yes, goodbye was too sweetened a word, but you didn't even say farewell.

Lyrical

He said he was done.

And I said, "You may have given it to me, but I am The Literary Gem."

I heard from him no more.