There’s Not A Day

There’s not a day
When I don’t think
About you.
Your smile, your touch,
Your raucous laughter,
Tears singing in the wind.

There’s not a day,
Just pages of memories
Torn from life’s scrapbook
Seared afresh in recollection.
There’s not a day
When I don’t think
About you.

It’s all gone,
Lost in the well of time.
All I have now
Is this beating heart,
Furrowed, fevered, firelit.

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Filed under Love, Philosophy, Poetry, Thoughts

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