sometimes,
when twilight stretches itself
over this unfamiliar place,
i close my eyes and feel
the memory of your laughter–
soft as the whisper
of leaves stirred
by a summer’s breath–
floating through rooms
where you have never stood,
yet fill somehow.
my heart,
it seems,
has carried you here
in its quiet chambers—
a home inside a home,
empty and brimming
all at once.
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 10:26 AM UTC
sometimes,
when twilight stretches itself
over this unfamiliar place,
i close my eyes and feel
the memory of your laughter–
soft as the whisper
of leaves stirred
by a summer’s breath–
floating through rooms
where you have never stood,
yet fill somehow.
my heart,
it seems,
has carried you here
in its quiet chambers—
a home inside a home,
empty and brimming
all at once.