dear child, don’t haunt me with your big, kohl-lined, black doe eyes, with those fluttering lashes that drape upon your cheeks as you blink in timeless motion.

you have left in your wake empty hands that still extend outwards, towards you, stretched in hopes that you may may come into them and let them embrace your warmth, the sweet scent of your skin, the soft, silk of your hair, and the beautiful blessing of your being…just your being, your thudding heart, the pulse that makes you smile, cry, laugh…but most of all, that makes you live very much amongst us.

dear child, it is not just your mother who wrenches her heart in tears, remembering your limp hands, your haunting, beautiful large eyes. it is not just your father who weeps upon your small grave. oh no, no. it is very much all those who knew you, all those who held you in their arms and beheld your beautiful gaze. the very sky should have shook and wept upon your departure. the day should have darkened, the clouds should have heaved and sobbed.

dear child, your eyes haunt me. and perhaps your haunting eyes are all that i have left of you, for me to enthrone you in my memories, for me to remember you always.