With your kiss lingering on my lips
I died without regrets of this life.
Blanketed in this bed, I am glad
I didn’t have to see my shriveled hands.
I died kissing you in my last thought.
After all the loves I sent away
I thought about the blue sea where
we walked, where I died when you left.
I made small talk with the trees.
The apple tree would not speak to me.
It did not trust humans. It felt
the world was better off before us.
I left it alone.
I could not lay under its shade. I felt
the world was big enough for all of us.
Some trees liked to laugh
and some trees were serious and wise.
The trees would question human thought.
Their questions had validity.
The trees could see through our lies.
The trees knew they were at our mercy.
We had cut them down one after another.
We were transparent like light.
They saw us as imitations of those that came
before us. To them we were all the same.