All the little things that only you and I can ever know.
An accidental object, meaningless to any other,
Will make me smile and cause a passer-by to wonder at its companion tear.
An old nickname from the lips of another will make me start,
And I will remember an invisible Age, buried eons into my heart
Where Hammies and Squishies and Penboings and other
Creations from a happier time play under two moons.
A painting in its likeness is rendered unbeautiful by its reality,
Its emptiness, and its disparity.
A used phonecard, a hand puppet,
The names we picked out.
The puppet, the coins, clothes and that can of hairspray
You left behind.
Details � no matter how hard we try � will not be resurrected for
Neither memory nor mime can stop the onslaught of time�s weeping blade.
Yet their imprint will remain in me, always;
And may they never stop making me smile at odd, random moments.
I will miss you.
--kiddo
(c) Lishesque
10:08 pm Wednesday 18 June 2003
