with the dirt in my nails

I.

humming city lights soften sounds of cicadas

mimicking and muffling rapid hearts.

fingers dance and pull the since-dried grass

gently enough to leave it rooted.

 

a subconscious curiosity,

is this voice too loud?

 

 

II.

an acoustic in-between swells and swallows

quietly in soft synchronization.

braided grass looks like woven hair as

wilted earth whispers in careful quartz.

 

mellow elation wraps into wind

the way thoughts intertwine.

 

 

III.

giggle ridden grin glows in girlish ways–

blushed, barely hidden by fallen light.

laughter tastes like savored honey and

hangs on tongues like halcyon happenstance.

 

bared teeth illuminate dimpled skin

and ask for more time.

 

 

IV.

will there be more time?

 

 

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