Even Without You

 The last vestiges of your existence are disappearing before my eyes.  

The rouge hair left on the shirt hanging in the closet. 

The memorial plant that is slowly withering despite my attention.

The whisper of purple that still hangs in the back of my closet. 

The picture of your smile that catches me off guard every time I see it. 

It's all fading and I so desperately don't want it to.  I hate that the price of love is this--these grasping, fleeing moments of you.  I hate that because I loved you, I feel this way.  For brief moments, I ask whether it was worth it.  But of course, it was.  Of course it was. 

The iridescent honeycomb of the bubbles in my hand.  Snow flakes that dance like glitter through the air.  7 degree wind that kisses your cheeks perfectly to cause heat.  Icicles that grow longer and wider with every dripping drop.  Tiny avian prints left in the perfect canvas of snow.  

There is still good.  Still beauty. Still wonder.  

Even without you.  

February 19, 2021