I let you go in parts.
First your heart,
Then your eyes.
Your heart set my tempo
And your eyes scorched my path;
So I let them go – one at a time.
Your hand I had held –
Timidly – I let it go too.
I am secure now – in myself.
But against the hollow in my heart,
your voice rings – still.
Just as how memories carve a niche
In the crooked passage of time.