Fragments of Memory

by BRIANNA ROSE BURTON

I remember you,
in fragments of memory though it be,
the sight of those brown eyes locked in my mind
with an everlasting want to be near you.

I can no longer fathom your smile,
or your body, but I remember perfectly
the sweet aroma of your presence,
lying beneath those golden stars,
somehow wishing you could hear me.

There’s a stillness in the air I can’t
quite grasp, and the scent of recent
rain that tends to encompass the core
of my still beating heart.

Oh how I wish I could still feel your heart beat.

I no longer wane from wanting to be closer,
though I breathe and move;
I can still hear the distant cry that chills me,
though the starlit night never gave away
the warmth I now long for.

The frozen ground shatters beneath my feet tonight,
yet the rose I hold can never wither in the frost.
I never truly understood the feel of being alive,
never felt the quiet serenity in my empty mind…
until I met you.

I felt the midnight chill beneath my skin,
and tried so hard to catch the breath
between two distant stars;
to feel the warmth that comes from
those burning rocks.
I felt you there.

I rode the waves of love to catch myself,
believing that I still could love and feel;
no matter where the tidal waves had ever hit,
I felt you there.

Within the temperate night, I heard
your heartbeat, echoing, without a
body to survive. It soothed me once
to feel the warmth of your presence,
to know I bleed to feel that I’m alive.

Oh the feel of you to know just how alive.

The ravaged wind still blows without you here,
and silent echos awake the fear in me,
but all I know for sure by your essence,
is within your memory, I still breathe.