the pain that good reveals

her expressions are curious
one moment, tapping her foot with a smile
staring at the snow circling to the ground with a distant pleasure
the next, her expression pained
teary-eyed she writes
who knows what sounds she hears through those plastic headphones?
who knows what whips her from one emotion to another?
she closes her eyes,
meditating and still
a moment later, she furiously types
perhaps it helps.
id like to tap her on the shoulder
and ask--
well, what would i ask?

i imagine she looks up at me, and slowly removing one ear bud replies
"memories, good memories. they hurt.
i feel them deeper
than i did in the past
i see them with more clarity
then when they were happening.
i miss them
i want them played before me
i feel their loss like
a deceased love
their goodness
makes this pain unbearable."