Gone but not forgotten, sadly silent
fiction
edward w pritchard
Your memories shadow, vaporously appears to me at night,
as essence of past removals.
You refusing to stay gone, I reach out in sleep from behind my eyes, with the will to touch that preceded arms and hands.
When momentary, dreaming, I capture your lost essence, its gone but not forgotten, sadly silent,
solidly material, far removed from my hands and arms.
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