Inside of me are many floating wisps of memory: the pieces of people I’ve kept when they touched my life.
Sometimes I have time to think. I pull out my evanescent thoughts and poignantly recall those who are no longer corporeal. I wonder who else retained their essence, and who else cares.
Held only by my own organic mind, many evaporate. I assume them forgotten forever; but, maybe they collect heavenwards. During our darkest nights, we see them looping and dancing as Aurora Borealis.