They bloom like a sunset in quiet rooms,
Whispers wrapped in twilight’s gloom.
A scent, a song, a sudden face—
Memories I can’t erase.
Like cut glass against the sunlight’s dazzling brilliance,
These vivid pictures time cannot erase,
Unlike whispers lost or colors dimmed by time.
The smell of rain on summer-heated ground,
A recognizable, echoing sound—
These memories, a waking dream I can’t erase.
The window sighs with the breeze,
Carving your name on trembling trees.
Even shadows pause to trace
These memories I can’t erase—they stay.
Time has tried, with silver hands,
To sweep away these drifting sands.
But love, it seems, leaves an indelible trace—
It builds a home I can’t replace.
So let them stay, both wound and balm,
For in their ache, I find my calm.
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