Memories are wasted figments
and visions of you, sketchy blurs
compared to the joy of being with you.
You made me feel real and true and alive,
gave me wings to fly and touch the sky.
If I close my eyes, you would be a burst
of sunlight, swirling wisps of gold.
This is what I mean when the wind rushes
through my hair and my body hums
with the birds, echoing their song of loss.