Let me remind you of the day
we danced under the summer sun,
rows of golden daffodils tickling our ankles
as we collapsed
onto the moist dirt,
beads of sweat settling into our skin.
The dirt would build beneath our
fingernails, pile into our socks.
We could drift away from the
inevitable and when I closed my eyes
I could almost see you sparkle-
intoxicated in your ignorance,
as if the dying daffodils
did not waltz between us.
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