If it wasn’t the most beautiful
Thing
I’ve ever seen,
It was one of them.

Floating white seeds,
Overwhelming the air.

The wind blew down a gust
Of them,
It was as if the air was water to them,
Roaming in slow motion,
Only disturbed by the ripples
Of my breath.

The sun was almost completely gone,
Nothing but an eyelash
On the horizon,
It turned every perfect puff
Blue.

I ran out to them
Allowing childlike desires
To overtake me.
The simple pleasure
Of knowing my body was in their midst,
That they would touch me
And be soft.

The memory still haunts me,
And I don’t mind.