Darkroom

Mon Étoile

And every winter
I think back to
when we first met.
Back to our first conversation.
Back to our first memory.
Back to us.
And every spring
I think back to
when you were gone.
Back to your last words.
Back to when your sister told me
that you could no longer go on.
Back to when I stopped
looking at the stars
because
they reminded me of you.

I wish we could go back.