#35.2

These things we can hold, memories, stretching them until bridges they form over our woes. In them lies the strength of what will always be there, what will be remembered, her name, her form. The scent of her nude form against your own. There in the deep thick black night we wrestle with the future. When we will understand that living long enough is forever? When will we see the prosperity in their eyes, as they stay by our sides, faithful, vigilant, hopeful. Because hope is all that will do.