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through the act of reading my words, the patterns that form your thoughts become an imitation of the patterns that once formed mine. And in that way I live again, through you No dirt, no text.
Dedicated to the memory of @Darlene, long time member of the DDG family
Inspiration and prompt from @Debbie Eh?
https://deepdreamgenerator.com/ddream/75nu6hobnoy
Music when Soft Voices Die (To --)
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.