Photo by Douglas Lopez on Unsplash
Yet another blackout
in our little old town,
I lie beside you,
my hand in yours,
tasting the salt
of sideways tears,
the bedsheet damp
beneath my cheek.
Blink.
More tears.
Sniffles.
Sigh.
The phone rang,
just the other night,
"Your mother is no more,"
the doctor said,
so certain,
so matter-of-fact.
And just like that,
you were gone forever.
The light returns
but not you.
My tears dry,
but my heart does not.
I search for you
in every place I go.
Sometimes,
I catch a shadow,
a silent echo,
walking beside me,
breath synced with mine,
like that time
you held my hand
and never let go.
About the Creator
Gardenia Rose
A complex life shared in prose.

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