senses remain

I thought of us walking.

The wide-open green space, the blue water and windy footpaths. I felt the cold icy wind move over my face and my nose blush red. I remembered the tall trees in the light of the fresh evening, when the sun prepares for sleep and the sky is holding out so you can spend a few more minutes beneath its dim light. My heartbeats fiercely underneath my warm black coat, my hair is messed and breezy along with my mind. The once foreign space is now home, encompassing a new moment that is no longer in my control. Cold kisses mixed with loosely wrapped scarves against the deep old oak.

Be quick and cautious as not to be seen, skipping along the edge of risk, feeling delight in the thrill. Passion is robust and full of hope when it is forbidden. When all lust overshadows rational thought and you find yourself smiling your way to the next thought, perhaps it is truly too perfect to be true.

I like to remember myself in a landscape and flash back to the smells and the tastes, the way warm and cold counteract and bubble inside the heart.

I don't remember you.

Jemma Michelle