“Whose to say why we are here, whose to say, but to cherish these days, mark them to memory, tucking moments behind the flesh.”
Time does not stop, there is no pause, only the winding forward that’s hopeful, engulfing till it leaves us behind: bones to the earth, energy back to the stars. Whose to say why we are here, whose to say, but to cherish these days, mark them to memory, tucking moments behind the flesh. To lose a loved one dulls the mind and slows the heart, to lose time often mimics. We cannot take time back, what we had this morning or late last night, nor can we keep the memories from spilling, spiraling to the moon, scattering.
