She has forgotten
How to feel the sunset
What the wind whispers
The patters of fireflies
That souls can touch
How to link hearts over space
To hold onto time
Why she is racing,
and why she wasn’t always
Where she is drifting,
and how to swim
The very essence
of what she once was
and who she is supposed to be
She has forgotten
Everything but memory’s echo,
the sense of something lost

– s. Clark