when the forgotten whispers have been raised to four octaves
echoing through the hallways where the familiar footsteps
have reverberated the wooden floors till the walls drop
un-bordered and opened to the serenading void of the winds
she's in the rain, untethered running through the damp fields
voice inaudible yet resonating like a drum-thump-thump
dropping unto the ocean soundscapes, dispersing the still waters
replaying the gone days as I stare through the window pane; immobile
frozen in rewinding a vivid playlist to all the un-song notes
as if the seeds of the melody have been planted in my episodic memories,
immutable.
