One morning, you awoke
and knew exactly what you had to do.
you unwrapped yourself
like a cocoon, the simple cracking
of a broken shell
I envisioned the snake skins
of my childhood adventures, scattered
at your feet.

When I was small and the days were warm
I would play in the cool mud
sloshing my feet and rolling
soft, earthy clumps in my hands.
I would be left exhausted
caked in a dried layer
of brown skin, browner than me,
browner than anything.
I imagine you, shaking off those
layers in one graceful motion,
the pieces falling downwards like
shards of glass

one morning
you knew exactly what to do
you arose like a phoenix
from our ashes, and left me
grounded, heavy
feet holding tightly to the earth
like the roots of a weary tree.

and maybe thats all that bothered me.
that I must weigh my memories
in balls of soil, tally my mistakes,
sift through every smile, every touch,
every torn leaf and broken branch
and count them like the wavy rings of a tree trunk
internal and unseen
but growing with each passing year
and each lover's
goodbye.