The music we shared was more than mere notes,
And the bread we broke held more than sustenance;
Now in your absence, a void remains,
The beauty that once adorned my world has withered.
Your touch graced the surfaces we frequented,
And your hands held these vessels with grace.
These objects, devoid of memory, stand silent,
Yet your essence lingers, an invisible presence.
In my heart, you walked among these familiar things,
Imbuing them with your light, your gentle touch;
In my heart, their echoes remain, a testament
To the time they knew you, wise and beautiful.