When he left, it might have been a dream.
But when she woke up,
he was gone,
vanished to go to war with himself.

She knew then
that he would come back someday.
And she knew then
that day was years away.

Her world became days and nights.

In the day,
she knew she had to forget.
Though memories of him besieged her,
she fought them off.
In her head, she wove a tapestry
of anger and good sense,
strange bedfellows to be sure.
But they worked. They held him at bay
inside her head.
And as the days passed,
she knew her feelings for him
were nothing. A silly fantasy.

The nights were different.

When she lay down at night,
the woman inside her mind
came back to her loom.
She began to unravel the tapestry.
In the darkness, the threads came away in her hands.
She said, "I still love him."
She said, "I always will."
Her day's work lay unwound before her,
until the sun rose again.

In the light,
she went back to her loom
and began anew.