Autumn

I watch quietly as the fields turn from green to gold whilst the corn feeds on our shared air and the earth continues, ignorant to its own incredible normality. I pick a blade of grass and split it with my nail, and then again until I’m holding tiny slivers of emerald in my hand and the weight is almost insignificant. The wind forces the dusty green in my palm to scatter and I am thinking of a time before now when she and I would lay upon this very earth and discuss our passions as if we were selling ourselves to one another.

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