When I think of him now, he’s clothed in shadow…
Blues and gray,
Cool and controlled.
It’s the only way I can carry his memory awake;
Truth covered in hazy, cold distance.
Oh, but when I dream of him, he’s armed with fire,
the way I left him…
Red and gold,
Burning and alive.
It’s the only way my mind will let my heart remember;
Sleep shrouding my sorrow.
I realize now…
I never knew real loneliness,
Before he spoke my name.