He climsbs inside my head,
Whispering stories from the past,
Sifting through my memories
With fingers cold as night.
All there in words and pictures,
The times he filled my senses,
As he once filled my womb.
He dwells still deep inside of me,
His light shines on unceasingly,
My pearl within an oyster,
His soul entwined in mine,
Two rivers join,two stars collide,
Two hearts still beat in perfect time.
Not even death could cut the cord
And seperate his world from mine.
By Joan Hirst
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