And that's all I had left of her now, two links from her wrist watch
that I kept when she got that adjusted to her size. Rose gold links
looked so odd lying there on my freakishly red and sweaty palms. Ah how
good the very same color looked on her gold brown wrists. Her skin tone,
a bit dark for many but just the perfect combination of evening hues
for me, how could I ever stop evenings from making my heart ache so bad
now that she was gone?
The very idea of letting her memories fade away in the dust of time and letting minutes, days and years stop the bleeding in my insides was preposterous. How can you forget what breathing feels like unless you actually stop breathing? Could I stop time? But why would someone want to stop time where there was nothing but the constant blue of her absence and not even the slightest hint of canary hues of her warm embrace or the bright pink of her smiles? Even the rose gold links in my hands felt piercing into my skin as the ice cold blue grief surrounded me when I touched the casket in front of me.
The very idea of letting her memories fade away in the dust of time and letting minutes, days and years stop the bleeding in my insides was preposterous. How can you forget what breathing feels like unless you actually stop breathing? Could I stop time? But why would someone want to stop time where there was nothing but the constant blue of her absence and not even the slightest hint of canary hues of her warm embrace or the bright pink of her smiles? Even the rose gold links in my hands felt piercing into my skin as the ice cold blue grief surrounded me when I touched the casket in front of me.
:-)
ReplyDelete