A breeze through an open window
Afternoon light falls between the curtains
Shivering craves the warmth of the sun

It doesn't reach
It never reaches

Am I too far down to hear its song?
Or does it just call in a faint voice
on that breeze, in that light?

As I listen I remind myself of red hair, blue eyes.
And like the words carved into her wrist
I will continue.