explaining the late silence

So you know
I'm not ignoring you
I think about you all the time
I find myself in places we
both liked to go, and doing things

I look quite silly doing by myself,
or trying to, and

you know what? I think of you.

I think of you quite often,
without meaning
it, or wanting
to. I'll look up, see

what I have done, and say

is this a monument?
A testament! But no, it's not.
I don't quite think that fits. I didn't
think at all,

when I was doing it. I just forgot
you weren't there, standing back
and taking in my turn.
When your turn came,
I turned and you were gone.

I think
I think of you because
I don't consider what
I'm thinking of.
I'm really not aware,
until

the curtain splits, within my brain and I

am standing there on stage, enacting
some bizarre tableau. I'm not

ignoring you,
you know