dear tree,
I wonder if you still think of me?
if the name drips off of your tongue, like rain?
dewy dictation of who we were...
that one time,
at that one place.
it was cold.
it was hot.
it was vibrating.
colors and lights and sounds enhance memories,
so when I walk into a dimly lit room:
I think of you.
I think of
low lighting in parked cars in summer.
I smell exhaust,
because that's a pale description of just about any car.
but it brings back so much memory.
Memory,
wafting through the air like the earthy texture of grass on a soccer field.
cold air,
Like sucking in a breeze of negative degrees while chomping down on polar ice chewing gum.
breathe deeply...
what happens when memory fades?
and what on planet earth does oblivion mean?
when a leaf,
disintegrates into the ground,
It is One.
of an...
absurd
...amount of leaves.
who names that leaf?
who holds it?
who
nourishes
it?
we do not.
because nobody gives a funeral to a fallen leaf.
It just blows away.
...okay?
-vivi
