her hands

yosemite30 days hath september

april, june and november

from what summer did we have, now winter

did it any of it ever take place

any of it

i wonder
it was a dream
perfect realism
i was awake but briefly
belabored breathing
climbing to the top

was it real
was it real
was it real

i have some proof

rocks to hold in my hand

branches of trees touched, in my hand

sand from mexico in a honey jar

in my hand drip drip drip

were it not for the leftover solstice hat

it slumbers, it holds no shape now

far away from mine

remember hers

in them i am

 

 

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