I’ll want to say I missed you when you’re back,
but I don’t think those words will be sincere.
We talk too much – I never feel a lack –
and you’re so often home you’re always near.
You like to wage a vehement attack
against old ills. I wish you’d disappear
for just a little longer, my dear friend,
and then my loneliness won’t be pretend.

(Ottava Rima)