Quiet people
When you speak, pine needles fall from your mouth. How long
have you been folding yourself in half?
I did not know you were so green and I'm jealous
of everyone who saw you first.
When July told me your story
from someone else's memory, I laughed at the heat. I learned that you were the type
of rainstorm that falls in the afternoon
and makes the world smell like
memories. I want to see
inside the junk drawers in your home. I want to
see what you hold on to
but refuse to set on display.
There is something growing inside of you
and no one will ever find
the forest it is planted within.











