June 13th, 2011

Titanic
Nothing stings like a memory of a lost chance.
A buried memory sculpted with in her, forever to play like a film on mute.
The very fabric of the thousands of fibers woven into her soul, that cuts deep when touched.
It is when the very well-remembered, well-felt moments that rush into her veins come, to make her long for a recurrence of no chance.
Forever he will remain, forever he is gone. And while time shall heal what took wounds, the moments will forever be inculcated into her history.
He exists where no end shall take part: in her memory, and in her heart.
(Photo taken October 2010, poem written June 2011)
-tkwolf

Titanic

Nothing stings like a memory of a lost chance.

A buried memory sculpted with in her, forever to play like a film on mute.

The very fabric of the thousands of fibers woven into her soul, that cuts deep when touched.

It is when the very well-remembered, well-felt moments that rush into her veins come, to make her long for a recurrence of no chance.

Forever he will remain, forever he is gone. And while time shall heal what took wounds, the moments will forever be inculcated into her history.

He exists where no end shall take part: in her memory, and in her heart.

(Photo taken October 2010, poem written June 2011)

-tkwolf

Posted: 8 months ago