I met him in the woods,
by the creek. The
desiccant grass bristled
underfoot; the trees refused
the coaxing wind,
as we traipsed our awkward path
to the water.
Absurd, to say he
could
have loved me.
As absurd as stepping
into the creek itself,
amidst the plaited weeds –
tremulous and sleek.
ataraxicat 