qualitative


I lean in to your shadow.
Finger gently the reverent memory of you.
Only bits and pieces, but enough
to make long thoughts and deep wells.
You are an echo within an echo.
There is the you I recognize
and the you forgotten.
Truthful shades of a real person,
I have glossed into something
more loved in acute remembrance.
Let these untruths be as they are,
they fill in the gaps of my heart
that you forgot to fill,
but would have.
I know you would have.

 

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