Thursday, April 28, 2016

Day Twenty-Six: slipping

IF there comes a day when i do not remember you, please write me of adventures we did not take:
places where we held hands but never graced, sunsets we licked the last crimson from
lakes we swam in 'til the day was done--moon hung
tell me of stories we whispered from cozy nests, tucked alongside mountain summits--forests thick
recount our days walking river's edge as brine and earth fill senses brim
resplendent sensations trick--every detail's trick creates for me a life paintbox deep
have me remember foreign shores where we traced the steps of ancestors fiercely bold
fill my mind with vellum pages richer than the life i lead--filled with you and true love's bleed
point out the constellations we've traveled to--across the vast indigo blue
i can not imagine this day will come when your face is distant and unfamiliar to me
but if that should happen by crook, by trick or by unraveled mind please take your hand and place it in mine

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