The remembrance.
I'm clinging to the scent of smoke on your aged skin,
holding on like I'm hanging off the highest point,
on an unforgiving mountain top.
Less than three months and I'll feel the comfort,
and warmth of your lap,
that's so used to the weight of my sorrow,
and the salt in my tears.
Remembrance is all that's keeping me,
from slipping off the edge.
For a little less than three months,
remembrance will keep me together,
and then you will be home to mend me when I fall apart.