when these roots rot and flowers fade to dust, our heartfelt speaks will still be seeded deep down in my earth. i'll be across an ocean then.
in the clay, silhouettes had cast shadows away from the heavens, among the ants that seized the red of my shoe.
your laugh, always recognizable, faded in the open space.
i'll run through it again, breathing: in in out, in in out. when the air is cold sometimes it hurts to breathe this heavy. we need to fly kites in the tall grass there. with the monarch and pink blur.
this funk we're all in, are feels we've felt before. this dance between blooming and dying, year after year. "this is the garden: colours come and go."
but apathy still scares me.