Shell

Her words, in books,
speak to me of eternal truths
ring clear and vibrant
alighting my soul, and
seeing her speak
should be miraculous
yet instead is sorrowful.
She is, was, gone now, but
then, was a shell of a woman
an emptiness with a voice
a resonance disconnected from joy
yet speaking as if
she knew what it was to love
never living her own words.
I send my light to you
the violet fires you helped ignite
and hope that when
you’re here again, you
learn this time
how to trust in your own joy
and live fully in love.

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2 thoughts on “Shell

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