#nordicproblem

[asypsilon]

you wrote your last letter to me on the same paper you wrote your last will on

like it was a last wish

for something to stay when you could not

[asypsilon]

it passed quietly. A small decision, unconscious, unnoticed.

Somewhere in the recent past I put my music back on shuffle. A small tap on a lit screen. Maybe it was in the subway, maybe it was at work, maybe at a friends place.

My thumb - or was it the index finger - decided on a whim that my ears could handle the surprise again.

My body noticed the moment that my heart was capable of being reminded of your smell, your voice, your smile, you, again without tearing the freshly mended seams to pieces.

But it forgot to tell me.

so imagine my surprise

when on a Monday night

suddenly

you