Flame

I can barely remember your face from a hundred lifetimes ago.

Have I become a dimmer version of me?

You last, you remain; when the rest of my being is cleaned and wiped.

You are ir-eraseable; a permanent benchmark pointing back to our start.

I seem to remember a time when we were young together, each spurning companionship, both wanting to stay young and independent.

But pushed together time and again both by our own volition and that of another.

But it is so blurry.

So unclear.

These could simply be fanciful thoughts dreamed up in a moment of longing.

Sadness stalks a heart grown lonely from silence.