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All our laughters hanging in the air,
all of the moments that we shared,
under dim lights with bright eyes,
sweet smiles and some cries,
tangling and untangling,
the memories of our lives.
In the fabrics of our home,
we left our pieces in her womb,
and she kept writing on her skin,
weaving the reminiscences within.
The drawn handprints on the wall,
those marathons in the hall,
unique footsteps on the ground,
filling each room with our sounds,
every single day, over and over,
until no one was around.