all I have left of you, dear



is a jar:


just a part of your whole

a bit of your liquid soul,


your waves stilled



touch-

your bones are dust at the bottom,



the delicate hints of your scent muted


breath stale and unmoving.

and when the light hits you,



reflecting and refracting endless depths


shines through



I see you

full with the vigor you will always possess

to crush and destroy



form and create

content with the fortune you hold

dead and gone



new and bright

sweet when your whispers reach my ears

come home

come home