Once I was the outline of your picture.

You filled it in with color and texture.

Now I’m the skillfully blended, faded edge,

hinting at dimension, noted only by

a studied eye.

Once I was the grasp around your wrist,

Squeezing tightly, leaving half-moon marks.

Now I’m the invisible imprint, still felt

only occasionally, when your hand turns

a certain way.

Once I was the leader of your band.

On center stage, the encore always mine.

Now I’m the indistinct track in your head,

the words forgotten, replaying only for

an olden hour.