Illinois Twilight

Words freeze and hang in the chill air, until they are broken by the returned silence.
I only wear black now, a nod to the crows who carried you away.
If you cannot speak, a sign, then.
A feather.
A penny.
Something to give me hope.
A warmth to melt my words instead of having them shatter like glass.
It was warm when you left, my tears flowed freely.
Now they only crust around my eyes.
The cold clutches my soul, and squeezes.
I remember sunlight, green days, days when my soul took flight with yours.
It shivers in my ribcage now, held prisoner.
I never knew twilight could last forever.