Not a day goes by where she passes by the place where they have stood & she cannot help but feel some spiritual feeling inside her.
For on everything he touches, he leaves a mark. Her bed sheets still smell like him.
But he is like a Tibetan Sand Mandala; artwork created then destroyed.
He gave her sacred space, but he is gone now, into the water, following the transitory path of life.
So she stands in that spot where he once stood with her, & she can only close her eyes & remember the ceremony that happened there.