A Walk In The Field
We walk into the field where chimes are heard in the distance that dance around the inside of bells, that seem to come closer but you can't see them. More of a sense of them than hearing them. The rain wet soil makes me want to fall inside of you, but I only hold your hand and talk in poetics, hoping that this would be the right incantation to captivate you. To roll you in the sheets of my bed of words that I would write to you upon, down your back like script. The sun sets splashing fading colour to the sky. It seems too low to the ground. The breath through the grass, your lapis eyes shift towards me. Tell me what is on your mind. Throw your story amongst the grass and bury it in the soil. Let it become stones for someone to collect and put in little glass bottles, to be put on display in back yard windows, to gleam under the moon.