“Here, This Air”
Today my hands hold a memory.
Cupped inside is nostalgia and pain. I caress them both from one hand to another.
This love is alive, as real as the hands that hold it.
This pain is deep proof that once I held your loved head in my hands.
They were blind hands that did not know what they were holding.
I come to you now with never-empty hands.
Here, this air, this memory, will help you live.
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