If in your last thoughts before you sleep,

in those lost, vast moments, alone in your mind,

you think of me, just know;

As I drift off the edge,

my mind is filled with

the smell of the forest, as the wind shakes the trees;

the sound of an apple, being bitten by delicate teeth,

the sun’s reflection, cascading perfectly across the surface of a pond,

and the color of your eyes.