since i was small,
i wanted to live forever.

every dawn is a hit of reality
and i’m eager for another.
and another.
and another.

i exhale, my cool breath hitting the air -
flavored with desperation;
is it so wrong to want more?

i wilt, only slightly, thinking about the end.

when i slouch in my chair,
i feel my heart shift closer to the soil at my feet

and i do not sink in the midst
of the flood -
i do not lose myself in the rainwater
pooling at my ankles -
i do not clench my eyes shut,
fearing where i will go
when i do

i need this more than you,
i swear.

and when i feel the back of the chair
digging into my spine
or the quiet, creeping ache of age
tugging on strands of my hair,
i resist; i deny it

the adrenaline of dawn’s kiss
is my defense against the rot,
but the night reminds me
of being small with skinned knees and a medicated wish.

i surrender, subject to the infestation of memory -
yet, my oldest prayer continues to echo
in every inch of this room:

sempervirens, sempervirens
(always green, always green)

Our first synthesis
photophsphorylation
And our first breath
adenosine diphosphate phosphorylated with an inorganic phosphorus
Growing into something beautiful
primordiums breaking from the shoot apical meristem
You were from one, and I was built of two
of the cotyledon difference
I watched as your skin peeled into the wind
as the sempervirens battles the deciduos
And your beauty withered away as well
Angi never surpassed Gymn
And there we stood
never before so different
And yet never the same