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I close my thoughts and listen.

The gentle hum of the reverberations
of the shell of my being aches to be heard.
And deep among the swirls of darkness,
there is the reflection that cannot be seen
by the eyes of my mind.

Reflections of you.

It can only be felt by allowing myself
to hear and feel the hum;
that gentle soft hum that reminds me
of what I am going to become,
although I’m not quite sure what that is.

This reflection, this rare, sacred reflection.
It is all I have left of your life.
It is the ideal of us that I created with your help.
It is a constant reminder of the smoke
that fades in and out of being the image
of your face that almost seems lost.

I hear the whisper of your lips that surround me
in a place of comfort I never knew I now possessed.
I possess it because I know that you existed once.

Where you are now and what you have become shouldn’t matter, but it does.
We aren’t here anymore. But I am.

But that room; that room with the vibrating walls.
With a clear yet shadowy mist,
with the little spark of light in the center
that signifies the reflection of your presence.
It’s all there, still there, although it's now empty.

It’s the emptiness that hurts.
But that emptiness carries with it a value.
My memories are floating all around this place;

I miss you, but you were never here to stay.
I miss the shapes of your face,
but they were meant to become a memory.

I just hope I can keep them there.
I hope that the mist never fades away.
I hope that when the time comes
for me to count on the memory of you,
it doesn’t fail me.

I will see you again.

I loved you Lisa, always.


Omar 2.18.02