I will watch you go. Over the hills, over the heather. Crumbling the bells beneath your leather shoes. I will watch you vanish, and hold my chest. You turn gold, briefly, and look back.
Every pain I caused you, every hurt, harsh word, I hold it to my heart.
Then you come, tumbling down the hill, rolling through the purple--a blur of pink and yellow. I catch you in my arms. You ask why am I crying.
photo by ffion.
No comments:
Post a Comment