I do not aim to forget.
I fear that through cycles (alternative: hot day, wind, cards going like boys used to dream about) I will let this day-to-day debris wash over what has happened. In my lifetime, her lifetime, their lifetime.
I may not feel, I may not fall under myself when I hear words of demise. That I cannot rectify.
"They are dead."
But I will not go on as I have before. Letting bright lights and metals invade me while they stay silent. Devouring what every ascetic learns to shed.
I pledge myself to you.
You will be my sunset.
Every run, every jump, will be for you.
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