What do I say at our last goodbye — will the Heavens open, do the angels cry? Will the bed where you lay grow wings and fly; can you hear my voice up there in the sky?
People tell me it’s a better place, where flowers will bloom for eternal days. I’ll still speak to you in my prayers each night, check in on you as I turn off the light.
I hope I still see you, even for a glimpse; please come and find me in my loneliest dreams. For now I’m the Sun who pines for the Moon — but promise me you’ll wait, ‘cos I’ll be with you soon.
Photographer: Sophia Sinclair