She hears the swing of his step,
before she catches herself
There will be no swinging anymore
She hears the lilt of his voice, so delicate and loving,
before she realizes that it does not exist anymore
She finds a memory tucked away,
inside a journal
More intimate than anything physical
ever could be
She hears his voice there,
lives his memories through his eyes,
feels the creak of a heart breaking,
and is caught on the winds of sorrow
She hears of death
and catches the sounds of it,
feels the fall of a body
as if of glass
before her
She remembers tears
and aching hearts,
remembers the dark pain
of loss
She does not feel a smile form,
only a thin fragment of one.