to suppose…

I have never sat here.
I have never smelled this air
or felt this sun on the left
side of my face. I have never
walked the streets in this city,
I have never been familiar
with anything here
but you.

And you have made everything
here seem like home since the
moment you walked me up
the hill on the day of my arrival—
just to see the sun setting over the ocean.
I could have seen it the next day
or the day after; but this was the
introduction to your world you
wanted me to indulge in.
The orange peel sun was glowing
like a pumpkin on that Halloween
night and it appeared more real than
any sunset I could remember from the past.
We were harvesting nine years
of trepidation, of wonder, of hope.

In this moment alone, hours before
I travel back to my home, where the
leaves are falling, burnt orange and
dusty brown, where snow and grey
will surely overtake my heart in the
next several months to come, i don’t
feel afraid of leaving this place, or
the citrus washed evening sky, or
you.

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Categories: Poetry

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