Every gust of wind carries your voice. Every sunrise radiates the warmth derailing from your smile. Every ocean reflects the shades seasoning from your eyes and during the night I can see everything you have ever wanted me to see. Every star exhales your favorite stories, wrapped in a fabric of dreams. Every mountain, summit top and meadow reminds me of your scripting skin. And I know you, too, are broken and every living thing that breathes your voice, feels your smile, vessels in your eyes, runs through your skin and looks up at the sky to understand your story, has a little piece of you inside them to call their own.