i.

summer stained your arms
with the rays of sunshine
that spill through to you
and you wear it proudly
wear the crown of thorns
placed on your head
by someone who’s long gone


ii.

last night i was singing
about seeing you again
and i don’t think i will
maybe i’ll go to the peak
of the highest mountain
and i’ll count everyone i can
and come down when it’s enough
that you might have been one of them


iii.

i’ll leak drizzle onto my palms
i’ll stay still till i rust
and then turn into dust
and people plant flowers
where my mind used to be
and the wolves and girls
will cry, cry for me
until the babies i had
finally learn to speak