in the wind that plays with your hair before you go back inside, after a long day under the glaring Sun.

Let me be a memory to fall asleep to, the pauses between the notes on our song.

There is no medicine for the sores of the spirit.

Remember me in the first ray of light that peeks through in the morning and strokes your cheek tomorrow.

If a man falls in a forest and no one is around to hear his cry…?