Instincts

I don't think
That a heartbeat
Should sound so like music

In a crowded room full of people
And joyful exclamations
There is one sound
That I could stand to hear
The rhythm and
The pulse and
You

Only sometimes do I catch a whiff
Of all that makes the world lovely
A whiff of sound
A whiff of sight
Whispers

Whispers of feet sliding on soft floor
Instinctually
Follow the rhythm
The beat
The beat that sounds like green
Not bright
Soft
Like a forest
And sunshine falling gently through summer leaves
Dewy grass and lemonade
The quiet gossip of old women gathered on wooden porches
Trading wind and stories

I won't forget about all of this

Never have I touched something as soft as the ground beneath our feet
The back of your hand
The smile I never want to leave

Wishes fall into water like the coins that hold them
Never to return
My wishes are in a box of letters

We are just a box of letters
Just a box of letters now
That's all that's left of us
My wishes and your thoughts mixed in with the ashes that no one else can see