three figures standing at the riverbank, blank and still as that cloudy day. breeze less and boring.
I've counted twelve summers since.
you were long and high as the trees meeting mountain tops. a world awake and new, your eyes shining in the sun and your hair like a halo.
I couldn't recognize you without that mask. freckles dating back as far as blood and bone.
you formed in the womb then, the pieces you would always keep.
my greatest achievement was waiting.
you never came but I never stopped. my dreams locked you out. where is our safe word?
buried there deep below the rocks, water rushing too fast over top to ever recover. my balance, my head, your conscience.