Do you remember

when you were young,

sticky

and stained red

from clutching popsickle sticks

in your small hands?

 

Do you remember

how you'd tilt your head

towards a sunset

redder than your sweet mouth

and block the light from your eyes

with fluttering black lashes?

 

I never looked away.

I dreamed of golden sunlight-

your gaze-

finally focused on me; a spotlight

and in my mind's eye

the wind was your breath,

a gentle gift for me,

butterfly kisses scattered

across blushing cheekbones,

marking freckles I didn't have.

 

But you,

most beauteous and fae,

carried yourself aloft

in a blazing blue heaven.

I watched

in silence

your ever-arcing and parabolic paths,

wishing they would cross

with mine

and saltwater rivers

shaped the land.

 

Dusty days passed

and my throat burned

with a thirst only you

could slake

and my eyes,

so attuned to you,

turned black

and fractured.

My hands,

fluttering in the breeze

aroused by your passing,

became petals

as golden as I thought your light.

 

I root myself to the lines

you and I etched into the earth

when we were young.