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The Body
February 16, 2022
the scent of dew glazed grass lingered in the air
I drag my body into the meadows by its hair
my fingers tangled in the golden locks
blades flicking at my ankles as I walk
empty white flowers cling to my face
as if they didn’t want me in the first place
but I do not care what the trees have to say
they'll all be stumps one day anyway
I hate you for what you said
now you’ll never say anything again
now you’ll decay like the leaves below my feet
the warm breeze brushes the gold hair from your eyes
you were my body
and now
I’ll bury you.
© Ash S., Highland Village, Texas
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