imago

Fields of ochre lemon sunshine
reeds tickling my bare thighs
air on my skin like a green light
at the end of a breezy dock,
full like autumn rain and
December dreams. Like a kite,
I have let go of the fantasy,
and instead dig my toes into
the soft earth, laden with worms.
I’m writing to let you know,
all those things I thought,
they never really did exist.