Am I alone in remembering?

When I mourn

I fantasize about then, being a continuous string

Still puncturing the now

I am still

Paused in pondering

The question I ask myself most often

Do they remember?

Am I alone?

Recalling

Rewriting the story

So that the ending is

Gone

Without a trace

Like all those whose needles have gone to sew in other fabrics

But left a heavy trace

Lead knows a similar weight

I do not try to lift it

For that string has ended

There.

Note from the author: work in progress