memories dissipating like smokeMature

The forest is a dense shade of viridian,
thick and soft like moss, I feel safe even as it feeds
on the rhodopsin in my eyes, even at is leaves spores
to grow inside of me, to stretch their tendrils deep into my skin
like roots, to weave their ways through my arteries, to
spread and settle in my lungs.  All of this happens
in an instant, while I am thinking the forest
reminds me of moss, and your fingers in mine
remind me of home, and how this place had never
felt so safe.  

Somewhere far behind us, the sun
pours honey gold light onto the earth, where it collects
in the field just south of the forest; you used to tell me
that was where the fireflies nested - and we would watch
as they glowed and dimmed, glowed and dimmed,
between the stalks of corn.  Summertime tasted like
ginger ale and schnapps and you kissed me hard
every time i wore the vermilion lipstick you got for me
at the flea market almost an hour away from home.

The End

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