Stone

You are that hard stone in my heart now
Right at the bottom
That makes itself known
Every time I have to hear your name 
Or see your face

That stone is all the things
I've carried
Across these 30-odd years
Hopes mouthed across a table
Its worse than an albatross

And it changes shape
It changes form and intention
It changes meaning, that stone
But it is my stone
Hard and dark and low

No longer is your name tied to the stone
Your space in my day is swallowed
The gap fuzzes and fills
My hand remains unheld
My stone remains alone

And some days it drops
From heart-pit to stomach-pit
Makes a bed there
But no-one lies down with it
Makes its home. This is my stone.