BY AINSLEY CARMAN 

Like the cherry tree,

I found you

In the dreadful ending of a season.

 

Bad timing of course,

 

Yet I still took every moment

To inhale the aroma of your sweet skin,

Burned by the sun hanging above

Threatening to never return

After presenting

The most beautiful thing

I had ever seen.

 

Those days when

Wind frolicked through trees

Like a lost ballerina

In an empty room,

 

I adored the stars on your skin,

The glimmer of sweat

Tracing your hairline,

Mapped with cowlicks

And streaks of sunlight.

 

The cherry tree still rests there

And the season has passed.

 

Your hair has darkened,

Along with your spirit.

I still linger there,

To recall the sound of your voice

When the world was young

And I had hope.

 

Looking back now-

I find myself distraught

to see where you had dragged me,

the middle of the woods,

where a frigid cold stung my skin.

 

I’m thankful you treated me that way,

for I will never wander away from myself again

with the naive intention that I will be found

once I have fixed another.

 

I am smarter now.

 

And maybe

you will be, too.

 

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