infinite

love, you say, 

is as tenderly golden as 

buttercups in may, 

as apollo's flaxen hair. 

and you wish for a lover.

fated together

as achilles was with

on any other day,

i would say my favorite song

is (nope)

it reminds me of

who i am, or rather,

i guess, who i hide behind.

today is different.

today i finished 

i miss summer camp.

i miss the pines

and the deer that hid

among them.

i miss the sunsets,

which were somehow

ever so much more beautiful

than any of the ones back home.