Memory

She is the light of my life.

Was, though now I remember all the 

softness from her. Purity, which sickened like the

yellow skin spread over her in the end.

Sunshine always lit up the sky and

poured in the windows when 

out of the world she went. We sat still

on the edge of her bed as the monitors held one dissonant note.

All the stars came out that night. This is a story

of love, loss, and nature looking at

us, knowing just what we needed.

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