predictable

the wind whistles songs behind my back while we look at the world together. everything is so green, even with the permanent glaze that i look through, and i can see your teeth even from here. there are no words anymore for how the ground radiates comfort, and your smile. i wait and watch for the second when the skin that encases this moment frays and dissolves; i sit in anticipation for when i'll start wishing i could still hold onto every rough edge, and the disappointing moment when i feel them soften anyway and slip away between my fingers, wasted.