I wonder

I wonder if he knows how often his name still crosses my lips, or how everyone I’ve loved remembers his name and envies whatever magic he must possess. Whatever magic makes the simple memory of him revive something deeper than even the most experienced of divers can’t seem to find.

I wonder if he realizes the mark he left or the power of that love, so deep and so unique that even I dare not dabble in it for long.

I wonder if he knows the meaning that every memory holds, or the way that they merge with memories deeper still, as if viewing the shore from under water – each layer unique and yet also blended in this intangible kaleidoscope of color and form too beautiful for a human throat to define.

I wonder if he knows its timelessness. I wonder if he knows that the ocean has no beginning or end, and that the sun and moon never really sleep. They turn and they roll and change, but they never really go away. Not really. I wonder if he knows.

©️ Cristen Writes