Beheaded man

I am longing for flesh
recently accessible
and now
far removed
from my hands.

I am lamenting for a love
left like a
healthy plant
only to return
to brown,
dead
vines.

I bemoan
a woman
despite my best efforts
at composure
and restraint.

I deplore
the events
that conspired
to assassinate
this young love.

I regret
my instincts
did not react
more sharply
and that I could not predict
the turn
in the road
before the crash.

I am left to my own devices,
delusions,
dreads
and I am slowly
driving
myself
insane
with speculation
and conjecture
for there is no voice,
no answers,
no respect
being offered
to the condemned man
before
his beheading.

He must simply stare
wide eyed
as the world
just rolls
away.