Linger For Me

as i wander upon the cracked footpath, the greys and violets of the city twist me like a shriveled leaf on grainy cobbles, and i remember the way the winding hills hung my heart in a safe made of redwood and birch. how they linger for me like seaweed reaching for distant shores, the winds that curl me into the buds of wisteria, nestled in the softness of wattles and the squiggles of gums. and i see you everywhere, i see you reach for me in the cracks between crumbling bricks, in the photos on my wall, in the gentle afternoon sun that melts me like wax, in the distant incandescent stars that hide and hang in the inky night. i’d do anything to just drop it all and run up north to where the horses roam and follow streams down south, where the daisies and roses bloom wild instead of in dainty little lines, where i could finally stretch my aching limbs on the greenest grass in the land and feel myself fall into the haze that is home.