I wish you were here.

I write on sun-soaked pages
(with a pen of inky sky)
of colors so vibrant it seems a Photographer
has captured the world in software to
saturate them— unreal,
yet only to be found in the realest
of untouched places.
Of deep blue and bright green and rich brown
and water that reflects every color
and no color at all. Clear.
Pale yellow washes over everything,
lightly— the sun is the Saturater, too.
And of the air that grazes skin,
weightless as sunlight.
TOMs in the grass, white earphones
weaving over blank paper and
through the blades.
It is perfection, you will not believe it until
you see it, feel it, be it.
The only thing I would not give up
to be sharing it with you
is the moment itself.

I wish you were here.

Such beauty. Too breathtaking, too
overwhelming, for just
one person to take in
herself.