Maraschino cherry red sun rays cut through pre-dawn shadows
I lay dormant in dream state
Limbs waking up to the vision of juicy starburst colors
Dancing across my pale gray walls
I stretch languidly with whispers of "good morning" coming from each molecule
The first of March three years later and I still ache
No amount of yoga, running, sweat or tears could ease the soreness
I get overwhelmed, stay in bed, retreat from sound
There is no running from the memory of your voice
Realizing that I did not want to was a journey
I prefer the echo to the silence
I trade the shadow for the light