Maturity

Slowly but surely we’re moving to lovelier places

where I feel backwards at the sight of your retreating figure

returning to the spaces with your traces in them

and smiling at the twisted beauty of our old selves.

You softly whisper, “I remember that,”

and free my distorted heart

as if the memories of our antics,

my innocence and your other-worldly intuition

are the sweetest escapes from everything we can touch.

The sunset glowers.

We glare back.

Just take my trembling hand and I’ll take yours

toward the path of the sun,

our future’s light.

I’m far away from what I once knew,

what I can’t change.

But

I’m close to the future,

one that isn’t promised to me

but is mine all the same.

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