Your memory is made of light and smoke,
escaping through narrow fingers,
against the backdrop of darkness and
cold air tied to sparkling eyes.
How I mourn your absent face.
I am gone, and distant, and now
I am to you incorporeal, as you
will forever exist so for me.
You are the desert sands that lifted
to be with the clouds overhead,
just as I found a place in the
frozen rains that fell from the winds.
Dreams escape to search the heavy skies.
Sparks puncture the broad of black.
Your memory is made of smoke and light,
last shadows of the love you once were.