please remember the rain-sweet smell of almost-ripened heath,
slashing at our ankles and tangling our words.
a slurry of language—
tumbling down the blue ***** like rocks kicked loose from the earth,
gathering speed, and crashing around in the hollows
down from the ridges where you sat, back against the air
as we plucked at the scrub pines and marveled at their twisted needles
because it felt like there were several forevers between us and tomorrow.