a photograph

there are two pairs of green eyes
staring at me,
one pair of bodies twisted
like tree branches,
a misted memory
that I covered in clouds
of smoke
from my own lips,
but a cold sea breeze
has seized
me –
and now the smoke only stings my eyes
and causes tears
to water my poetry,
one of my fears have come true,
despite everything
I thought I outgrew you,
but in truth
we were two saplings that needed
each other’s petals,
to map out our hearts
and to soothe our heads,
now I am left with
a body full of sand
a weakened hand
and unable to stand,

holding a photograph.

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