Set the photograph aside. ... Let me remember... your eyes. your smile. your fingertips resting on my skin. ... Tiny cracks run through the paper. ... Time keeps moving. Too brief our laughter. Too brief the quiet moments we called our own. ... The colours fade a little more each year. ... Silent tears. ... Memories grow softer, leaving only a blurred space where your absence still lives. ... I place the photograph between the pages of a book. ... Carefully. As if time might forget to touch it there. ... Life keeps turning pages. ... Until one quiet day I open the book again. And for a moment... we find each other.
