Here I lie,
all darkness about me,
surrounded by the quiet
hum of existence.
The stillness is not complete tonight,
and so I take this moment
to converse with my memory.
Strange that we should
always pick you for our topic
of interest,
but not so strange either.
Now, in the calm,
we return to a lingering image
of your smile,
and recall that it was yesterday you last spoke to me.
I feel like a child
for sharing this,
but I fear it must be said: I love you
in some small way.
And my heavy head, now unburdened of the secret,
may rest fully and
lure the memory to its rightful sleep.
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