Every day I wake up searching for the sound of your smile, in a
Photograph my fingers ran through your hair, golden rays of sunlight on
Pebbles each its own drop of sand, shone to these eyes in radiant night.
There was a time I remembered how to talk to you. I just can't get there anymore. I cross the street, use the cheat sheets, the pictures, the prose, and even an event like today doesn't hold a flame to the brightness transcending our time shared at all.