on this day, in this month, i think of towers and ash.
of lives lost and loved ones found. a new york i never knew and the deep canyons that line the walls of my heart.
and because our souls are made of stardust, and the carbon that builds our bones echoes from a time beyond understanding, i say we live on still. live on even long after we die. not just as memory and song, but part of the dust that presses our eyelids shut in a wind storm and the blisters on our feet as we walk barefoot in the unrelenting sun.