She never understood
why the way he held her hand
could make her feel
quite like that.

And she never understood
why his smile made her pulse speed up
and his laugh made her head spin
and - oh, everything. Everything
changed when it came to him.

And she never understood
why, of all the pretty girls,
he chose her. Why her?
She looked in the mirror and knew well
that she was ordinary beyond
ordinary - there was no spell
for him to fall under. But he fell all the same.

And the years passed by like days,
and the days like years.
Quicker than raindrops, her fears
fell away and she knew - and understood -
that he was hers.

Then he was snatched away
in a way she'd never considered.

The mourners shook and shivered
in the grey of the graveyard, though she tried
to stay strong for his sake, and not cry.

And a shot of life burst through that grey
locked up in a coffin and hidden away
under dust and dirt and ashes.
But she knew - and understood -
that the way she'd felt all those times
he'd held her hand or spoken or smiled -
that wouldn't die.