here, 26, and by the sea
where my body finds
the first rest it has
ever known
i close my eyes
i go back in time
i travel into the mountains to
find her
myself, a small child,
braided hair and shellshocked
i ask her if she wants to
catch fireflies in a mason jar,
she does so with splendor.
i ask her if she has ever seen the ocean
i ask her if she wants to come with me
i ask her, softly, if she wants to leave
we drive to the coast
she picks the music
she delights in the journey
i arrive and save her
just in time,
that she may never know
the taste of blood.
on her lap, her jar of fireflies,
a little light to
guide us home.
Apr 27, 2024
Apr 27, 2024 at 8:16 PM UTC
here, 26, and by the sea
where my body finds
the first rest it has
ever known
i close my eyes
i go back in time
i travel into the mountains to
find her
myself, a small child,
braided hair and shellshocked
i ask her if she wants to
catch fireflies in a mason jar,
she does so with splendor.
i ask her if she has ever seen the ocean
i ask her if she wants to come with me
i ask her, softly, if she wants to leave
we drive to the coast
she picks the music
she delights in the journey
i arrive and save her
just in time,
that she may never know
the taste of blood.
on her lap, her jar of fireflies,
a little light to
guide us home.
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