.that afternoon in the futurewe fell into bed and kissedand I mumbled 'I love you's onto your lipsyour smile curls, quirksaround my mouth, around my heart"please," I'll whisper,"let's never fall apart"
.the first second of life must feel like a lifetime–and all minutes after, faster rushing byhours into days, and days into weeksas the calendar takes flight; its pages leapinto time: an hourglass, a river,and soon enough you'll start to witherwrinkles and memories deepI am infinite lives old and my days are a blur–is this what they call growing up, losing track of who you were?
.gold grass, purple flowersa white butterfly, flutter–whirl––not even may showerscan bring dead rivers back to bluebirds speak, spilled wind shuddersand gleaming ghost water muttersas I sit, shy still and wonderwhat this place was years beforebefore houses, metal fences, and red curbsidesbefore children learning and hopingbefore everything went dry
dreamquakeday's wake, waves breakand I am b r o k e n(into tiny pieces on the shore.)Neptune and Calypso in alover's embrace, whirlpool starboard.I drift over the bowas an albatross,sailing on the wind;my feathers melt into wax,lostas I fall andd r o w n