There is something I keep forgetting.
For all your things are still here.

Why does this seem strange, for you have simply taken a voyage.
But there are things amiss, little things here and there.

Why is your closet full of cloths and shoes?
Bookcase is still holding all the books.

Why?

Why would you leave your rings behind?
You always kept them, perfectly assigned to each finger.

Sometimes I think its strange... you are only now in my mind.