You reminded me today,
just how much sweeter life tastes when you get back to it
like listening to a song after years and humming along to the tune, almost knowing the words, till you do, once again.
Or flipping through the pages of an old book that you read back when you were 14, wondering if the words would still mean the same, or maybe,
just a little more.

As you recount a line or two to me
of an old poem you had once read.
How you long to read it again, wondering if the rhythm would still hold true
and the verse would read itself, just how Milton meant it

And they seem to depict you now, the lines,
as you go over them one more time,
delving deep into the syllables and lifting your voice for effect
and somehow, they begin to describe us.

For paradise lost is my paradise regained
and every minute now seems like hours, sometimes days spent together.
And I know that this will pass too,
for time is fickle.
But I know that someday when I walk past an old bookshelf full of law case studies and Elizabethan literature, you would live again through our memories, or maybe,
just a little more.


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