September 26, 2003 It was something small
That brought me close to his memory
And then I felt his hands on my arms
His piercing blue eyes looked right into mine.
I heard him say
I am so proud of you daughter.
Illusion, fantasy
I know he would be.
Wrapping his memory around me
Is how now I find peace.
Believing in his love for me
Is how I recharge my hope.
I am him
My life, death, persuit, ambition
My desperation, desolution
My words
Are him.
And he is always alive in me. | |
