i wear your presence like a shawlMature

I wear your presence like a shawl,
clinging it close to me 
as a second skin - 
wielding it like porcupine quills.  
My impatience wears at me, I fidget 
and flutter - a bird in a too-small cage.  

I remember daisies and tiger lilies 
growing along the path in the woods where 
we would go to smoke joints,
our steps hurried to get there
but reluctant to leave.

I remember the frore of the autumnal air 
burrowing into my fingertips 
the last time we ventured that far.  
The trees were grey and cold, 
their outlines like cracks in 
brittle porcelain.  

Smoke billowed from your nostrils.
Your eyes decoded the ashen clouds,
twisting overhead, 
a gruesome imitation of intestines, 
gurgling and grumbling as the thunder 
crept up on us from the North.

Through the haze I watched
your pupils dilate in, out, in.
The fallen leaves crunched beneath your boots;
if I’d wanted I could have closed my eyes
and followed you home
but I’ve never been that brave.

The End

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