lay yourself upon the grass.
listen to the silence of the earth
and remember.
let the memories flow like water,
trickling through the cerebrum,
pooling behind your heavy lidded eyes.
Do you remember, Do you remember me?
the labyrinth whorls of your fingerprints,
breathing in coffee and mint from the
puckered pores of your muddy spring skin.
loved one.
two children leaning against a tree trunk
drinking lemondade and
poking at our scabs.
Loved one.
two fish breathing bubbles of oxygen
under the glassy surface
of the deep, deep Pacific.
Lay yourself across the grass.
listen to the silence of the earth
and remember.
