5.31.11

You.
You're a train that has more stations than rails in my heart.
Songs secretly whisper your sound leaving melody and her companions feeling lonely and forlorn.
You.
You're the trace of lingering fragrance caught in this intersection that finds me passing through; stealing my thoughts and rendering me captured.
You.
You're the keeper of my secrets and now I can't even hear you holding them tight.
You.
You're the color which I won't forget, void, or reassign... Yet can no longer paint with.
You.
You're the memory within the memory folded inside of the dream. Sleep knows no escape.
You.
You're the touch that fingertips recall and the feeling that skin can't shake.

You.
So far from resembling a tragic mistake;
you are the beautiful ache.