Sonnet

These songs replay in my mind
Like echos, from empty corridors.
This time it's real.

The memories cannot be rewritten-
Not in spite
Not in sadness
Not in happiness.

It comes rarely to me now,
thinking of you.
It's a reflex, but it can't hide these songs.
These memories undone, thrown about in the now-empty corridors of my mind.

Can't you see me? I'm here, singing.