Just an excerpt

This is pulled from a novel I'm working on,
 and by "working on," I mean I've looked at it off and on for the last 2 years or so. 

Me?  Dilly-dallying?  Nahhhh...Okay, maybe.  Anyway, for a basic summary, the story centers around three assassins and one young woman that mysteriously crosses into their nigh-impossible to find, heavily guarded property with no recollection of how she ended up there.  Xeru, the leader, doesn't kill her outright as his normal custom would dictate.  He instead keeps her around as a plaything to break up the monotony that encroaches upon his life between jobs, and to gleen any information he can from her as to how she ended up on their land.  A psychological game of cat-and-mouse ensues.

I wonder,
Years from now,
If I’ll still hear your echo.

I wonder
If you’ve managed
To leave a lasting imprint
Of your soul
On mine.

I wonder
If I will ever wake in the night
And reach for your warmth
But find empty space.

I wonder,
Years from now,
If I’ll feel the half-imagined brush
Of your voice surround me
And whip around to find
Only sunshine falling through window panes
Creating shafts of pale light in which
Motes of dust can dance.

I wonder
If you will linger here,
With me,
And if your spirit will carry me into madness.

I wonder,
Years from now,
Will I recall
Your happy tears
Or your sad smiles?

I wonder
If I will glorify you,
Or if my mental picture of you will tatter
And fade into grayness,
And leave me repulsed
At the thought of the love I felt
For someone like you.

I wonder
If I’ll ever forget you.

I wonder
If your memory will haunt me.

I wonder
If you’ve not only touched my life,
But Enisha and Virge’s also.

And I wonder
If anything will ever go back
To the way it was
Before you came along
And passed off a little of yourself
Onto us.

I wonder
If I’ll be thankful later on,
Or if I’ll come to hate you.

I wonder
If your ghost will have mercy on me.

I wonder
If I’ll ever step foot
Into your room,
Or dare to lay upon your bed
And bury my face in your pillow
And breathe in the lingering warmth of your hair.

I wonder
If I’ll pretend for moments
That you’re still by my side
And if I go to take your hand
Would I feel you grasp back
For the space of a second
And if I pulled you in close
Would I feel your body
And if I would crash our lips together
Would yours be just as soft
As they always were
And would I feel you give
And tighten your arms about my neck
And will you be as real to me in death
As you were in life?