tread.
Toes sink in the pollen blanket,
squish of dandelion stems
and trampled wishes.
Eyes weren't closed tight enough
against arid alchemy.
Hands holding wilted stems
like a lifeline.
Nothing divine about praying
on puddle soaked knees.
Lust untrusted.
Love realigned.
Wanting to walk
the road alone.
Gravel rubbed blisters,
penance for
wanting.
Not waning just waiting.
Wondering what if.