I find myself at 3

I am finding it hard to forget you.
The scent of your hand hasn't faded yet...I'm still waiting four spirit to reclaim the last of it.
I haven't forgotten you standing close behind me, hugging me, your arms around me.
Content. Satisfied.
How your hands seemed to belong with mine.
They used to find mine and hug them so gently.
Late morning. My nose would find the smell of breakfast with your face in line for the day's first kiss.
Why is it that these things never erase themselves and require so much effort to temporarily disappear?
All our small moments have collided into un-erasable data...stone masoned onto my fresh, biological heart.