Love letter # 667

The bells may not have rung for us, yet you will chime in my memory, like a wave beneath my skin, subtle and buried, but still there. Though you will likely forget, I will house the archive of tender seconds in the sediment of passing days. For the briefest moment I saw you and shed the mask of public self. A flower opened in my heart. In years not yet counted, I will breathe in and its scent will trigger echoes. This will be your song, and I will hum it quietly, and it will feel like the warmth of your hand.    

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