The squint of your eyes, the touch of your hand, The way you had hoped your story would end. These things that were you, I cannot replace. Nor would I want to, your laughter, your face.
I still see your eyes, I still slow dance our dance. The memories will keep, but missing your glance. I wanted to save you, while knowing, I can’t. Tried my best to honor your wishes that’s true, for grace, love and comfort were the least you were due.
Leaving you for the last time, in your blanket of blue, surrounded by pictures of the life that was you. “This was your life, Scott”, I whispered in our last private event. And then it was finished, and settled, and went.