I dig my toes into the snow
trying to remember
how to feel.
“You’re beautiful.”
Every word registers
but doesn’t retain.
I’ve never been a believer.
I dig my toes into the sand
trying to recall
if this was ever real.
“You’re beautiful.”
Every word registers
and I refrain.
I’ve never been a believer.
I toss a flower at your grave and I
wonder how we got here.
All those lost years.
I could have been better.
I could have let you in.
I dig my toes into the soil.
All your words now register; retain.
It was always real.
“You’re beautiful,” the wind whispers…
Thank you.
M.
Say anything.