Here

By Josh Black

Your name. Carved in stone, engraved upon my memory. I kneel before your stone in supplication. Bury my face in my hands, feel the blood there. I never meant for this to happen. Still I hear the screeching tires, feel the piercing glass shards. Plastic flowers mean nothing, and I’m sorry. I just want to hold you, to tell you this.

I raise my head, glance at the stone beside yours. See my name there, the matching date. But I’m here. And I remember.

Your name. Carved in stone, engraved upon my memory. I kneel before your stone in supplication…

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