in the candlelight I remember you

[mccleverly]

Here it is, I recall it now.
The grasping feeling.
My heart is heavy in sympathy or recollection and
I miss it, that fullness.

It is forever, that instant. The wound
You will never recover from.
You recover from it and looking back
There isn't even the scar, except
For the feeling that the scar is missing.

It is gone, it is gone,
And can one (should one) weep
For that which is not missed?
For the days in which a heartache is
Meaningful?

How much do you miss
Falling in love?

How much do you miss it?

Really?

-McCleverly