Still Breathing cautiously Welded to the moment The room rotates through me And there, caught in reflection All sound peeling away She stands before me.
“Do I know you?”
The face looking back With eyes fixed in mute reply But for the wind, that lends its voice She speaks.
“You are me.” “I died for you.” “And I will die many times more.” “For it is a time of echoes.”
The impression of her tender hand Clasping to her last possession Unfolded as petals from a pale pink rose Blooming for the last time. And scrawled upon her fading palm Carefully sketched it read As the mirror erased her from my eyes Branding across my heart Her words
“Let me live.”
I‘ll not forget that lonely figurine Upon whose frame the past has perched With it’s painful talons clenching tight The burdens that were hers to bear Are ashes now Left for me to gather To cast Amongst seeds of hope Water in the rocks Current to rapids Flowing quickly Into a time of echoes.
