Rain lashes against asphalt and sheet metal. Unnatural and inert, I take it all in, lying in bed where your scent never was. Times like these happen all too often, when I reach for you with insensate certainty, there to find nothing, fingers straining into emptiness, clutching dust of dreamlogic. Here next to me you were never, nor never may be, and all the voices I've known have told me to forget you. All the voices but one: yours, the most sonorous of the chorus, lilting and insistent. It's that voice to which I devote myself, and remember. That singular voice which drowns out all others, scrapes through my mind, and leaves me addled, fearful, and completely secure.