How many moons must go by in which I miss your gaze?

There is no reason I should care but the forest is ablaze and ashes are falling all around.

I see the smoke curl around branches and all I think about is tender shoots pregnant with sap.

Why must you turn away from me?

There is a familiar knot that swells in my throat,

I can’t see anything, the smoke is so thick

I must turn the other way

Spinning around I bump into you

The hidden places I did not look

are right in front of me.

-Rio Wrenn

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