if I am but a memory that fades

I want you to realise
only this.
As I walk    
across pink fescues and red saccharum  
parted by paths rich with rain,  
as I catch  
each drop that wets the lands,  
falling gently through sepia tones  
cedar into my bones,  
as though  
all beauteous aspects in simplicity, simply    
everywhere I go  
in everything that I know  
you exist.  
Now, if I  
piece by piece  
should be swept as particle of air    
then all that will be is dust.  
If I am to be a memory  
which surely fades    
do not ever look to again    
what you will already have lost. 
If time  
fractures and dries  
as the truth of my breath    
reaches by your side,  
and you decide    
to no longer listen  
but rather choose    
not to hear,  
and I am, I become    
a place    
where crows intrude and ignorance floods,  
then I shall    
remain far  
from where, and from all  
that you are.  
But, if  
in each minute  
of every tomorrow
your ability to perceive,    
should have you seek  
resplendent butterflies that call    
for your hand    
to always reach for mine,    
then, I shall forevermore  
set the winds to sail  
with nothing less    
than all that I am,  
and never then  
will my touch  
from yours  
ever be withdrawn.  
Written by sophie_ericson
Published | Edited 4th Feb 2019
Author's Note
Inspired by Pablo Neruda’s ‘If You Forget’ and ‘The Saddest Lines Written’ comp
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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