I found an old photograph the two of us grinning

I found an old photograph, the two of us grinning,

it feels like a secret language lost in translation.

Her absence hangs like the whisper of spring,

a season too long without her—an uninvited sensation.

At that birthday party, the laughter felt staged,

my smile worn thin, a mask cracked in place.

The swing swayed gently, like a heart still engaged,

its rhythm a pulse that echoes her grace.