In a woe filled world filled with darkened despair,
who can we go to to fill the air?
Laughter fills through the pollen filled powder
and I sit here alone, missing your voice, always louder.

The way that you laughed,
the way that your eyes folded at the fringe.
The way that we clashed,
my arms folded over my chest in their indignance.

We loved like no other, in our own strange way,
never touching, never telling, always knowing.