Where Your Mark Remains

I cannot help murmuring your name, in the margins where your mark remains.
I cannot help conjuring your face, in the regions between time and place.

I cannot help listening for your voice, whispering there never was a choice.
I cannot help wondering what lies, beyond the reach of our unseeing eyes.

Day after day, recollections slip away.
Time to confess, haunted by a last cold kiss.
And so it all comes down to this.
Down to this.

I cannot help stumbling in the dark, searching for a flicker of that spark.
Sometimes the empty vacuum fills and with the echo of your laughter spills.