And there, you had presented yourself in everything beautiful to me in slow succession.
I catch you, ghosting through the intensely green woods behind my house,
I taste you, notes of smoke and familiar, in the brew I make early on in the morning,
I’ve heard you, a voice singing in showers of seasonal rain, soft and unrelenting,
I’ll smell you, when I grab fistfuls of earth and hold them near, raw with realness,
I’ve felt you, whenever my hand swept across the other, in every pulse throughout me, in all my subtle smiles.