I hold your mirror in my hand, searching, searching.
Surely some glimmer of past reflections
must remain locked inside – your face as you
combed your hair in the morning sunshine,
put on earrings, arranged your dress.
There, beneath the surface, just out of reach –
If only I knew how to slide beneath this
reflection and hold you in my arms once more!
You were moonlight and melody,
Perfume and joy in the morning.
Now you lie in ashes beneath the earth.
My heart yearns. It wants what it wants,
And I cannot make it stop.