“Lines Hold The Memories” by Agnes-Cecile
I remember your touch,
like the pattering of rain before a storm-
prominent yet gentle,
and warm as it drips onto my skin,
breathing a sigh of warning
for the gale to come.
I do that often now;
remembering.
All I seem to do is remember,
now that you’re gone.
I reach back in time and see your eyes,
alight with playfulness and mystery and intrigue-
and I wonder why you left,
when your blaze was so young.
I wonder a lot of things,
now that you’re gone.
I wonder why the night ever seemed so sweet,
like a blanketing of ink upon
a bed of stars, painting it’s mellow ‘good night’
across the sky.
Now it just seems cold
and dark and unwelcoming.
The night’s become a stranger,
now that you’re gone.
I wonder why the fire in the hearth,
which once kindled endless embraces
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Finding myself 