Two days gone

Found this in another folder. I know who I wrote it for, but I won't tell you:

The house is quiet now, but your presence lingers. A taste of laughter still flavors the air. Music hangs delicate as smoke where you left it; reverberations of an evening past. I feel it as these fingertips explore the frets. The soft vibrations of nylon strings meets the ghost of your melodies. They rain upon a saturated room, flooding the atmosphere with glorious sound. I mute the string and listen.

Silence fills the space again.

When I close my eyes, I feel you. Your eyes grin from across the room. Your form rests upon the crush of the cushions. I hear you. A gentle morning mist is the memory of your voice. It descends lightly among the evergreens, filling the canyons with the lyric of your thoughts. I breathe you in. You are an echo in my lungs. You rebound and recoil, then escape in a whistle. A specter present in my song.

Apparitional pupils blaze from the hollow your figure left upon the room. The light shifts and flickers. My fingers pluck lightly beneath a wistful gaze. The sound rises gracefully toward the emptiness that once held you. Tendrils of melody cling to the memory. Blending with my sighs, they dissipate into the stillness of this lonely room.

You have gone.
You are two days gone