Her door hung open open
The younger sister away for the night
Craft papers and princess dresses
In place of cases of formula and bags of syringes
Memories drift out misty in the blue dark

I strain to remember the details
Formula in goldenrod and primary blue
Foil tab across the top
Vanilla barely masking earthy vitamins
Fat syringes wrapped in foggy white
Hollow “pop” when the plunger releases its grip

I hear echoes of her voice
Her sister’s laugh
Her brother’s cough
I try to capture their sound intact for later
When the memories fade under the dust of time