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A soft, salty droplet of lost hope 
trailed my jawbone.
Memories flashed before my eyes,
the day she left.
Joy,
tears,
the laughter we shared.
The kindness of her eyes
still haunts me.
And now this is all that’s left,
a collection of memories.
An archive of dreams.
It takes me home,
this shard of hopes
my hands reach for my nape.
It brushes my fingers
like a butterfly caught on the wind.
Each nook, each hitch,
the shape of song
tracing my neckline,
the ghost of
what once was.