Older, we are now. Ripened in the sun, hands clammy with a shared closeness, mature and swelled. We were not told when we'll die, let alone how to say goodbye. That moss would outlive us, and so sweet kernels we chew, against the fumes of logs glowing.
As Leaves Fall
As Leaves Fall
As Leaves Fall
Older, we are now. Ripened in the sun, hands clammy with a shared closeness, mature and swelled. We were not told when we'll die, let alone how to say goodbye. That moss would outlive us, and so sweet kernels we chew, against the fumes of logs glowing.