The Picture

Someone asked me why I still have your picture

The remnant of a pain so raw it sliced my heart into two

A soundless scream that left a primal anguish, a void that’s bottomless

The tears that ran rivers of blood and left my eyes lifeless

I smile

For sometimes, when the timbre of your voice remains in my past

When the memory of you softly crooning to me fades like the night

When the sweet whispers of your love are lost in my imagination

I look at your picture

I remember

I smile.

For sometimes, when the feeling of being yours is now but a figment of thought

When your name coursed through my veins and is now but the lost words of a song

When the fire in our hearts scorched the passion of our touch but is now doused forever

I look at your picture

I remember

I smile.

And sometimes I sit by the sea and think of infinity, of another sea so long ago

Where we walked alone in the inky silence of the night and moonbeams danced off the water

When the waves lashed the shore and the skies gushed down in torrents

When I lay cocooned in your strong arms against the raging elements outside

I look at your picture

I remember

And I smile

Lest I forget…

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