what does it mean to live?
it’s to know the joy of racing down the shores of the beach, kicking sand and sinking our feet into the cool underlayer
to know the way a smile lingers from my hands cupping your cheeks
and to miss someone every time I see a shadow I think know
to try and fail to forget a smell, of a place, of a person, no matter how long it’s been
here’s the initial break, and then the clench that comes when you look at photos and videos and the distant memory lingers for more than it should.
and the little jumps when you see the shadow you think you know, but really you never knew. and then there are the cracks.
when you just think about what you were doing on a lovely chilly day, a day like today, when the air is crisp and the trees are red, and the sun is warm on your face, the light stroking your cheek like a mother’s warm embrace and a sister’s touch, wiping that tear away.
but isn’t it beautiful? when the little things you see remind you of them, it means you cared
and maybe… what it means to have lived, is to have cared.
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