Long gone

I was long gone when you called,two centuries, two lifetimes, or more:I was sitting on a platformspliced with the coldwind was clutching at my heartringing with the noise,“climb your lonely mountainstake out your lost terrain”I was long gone, when you wrote,my house dark shutteredfurniture shrouded in white drapeswith the spikes of random sunlightraining rainbows on the dust,walls rung with rusted echoeswith the laughter we have lost.There was honey in our tonguesreflections of above,but that’s all long and goneand there’s nothing left to saywe can’t regret the winterhold back shoots of springand yes, you had your reasonsso reasonably succinctand now I’m somewhere hiddenin some other form and placethere’s no answer to your questionsno questions left at allfor I’m on this icy platformthe train is running lateand the cold has frozen any hopeof anything safe and warm.I was long gone when you noticedI was long gone when you called.