To a memory:

I recall, on a weekend evening,
My body tells me Saturday,
That we laid on the small grass patch that laid beneath a tall mesquite tree.
Our fingers interlocked and our bodies fused together, in an effort to truly become one.

Owls hooted in a nearby nest, the wind swept my hair,
I remember, faintly, the way you smelt.

Like guilt, deceit.

Our chests inflated and deflated in sync.
I could feel your pulse in your wrist,
You were so calm.

A distant cat meowed in sorrow,
You looked over at me, smiled, and got up.

Moonlight danced on your skin and with a swift pivot,
You walked away.

Forever, you whispered.

Meant nothing to you, I hollered.

-Chloe Aldecoa