84//365 / by Rebecca Tillett


I see you on the horizon,
always just beyond reach
15 years and 1
2 years and 8
Medium term
My life is seasons of you
and seasons without.
Where have you been,
Where did you go,
I wanna rest my palms on your ribs
I wanna feel your chest pressed up against my back
I've survived this dust bowl
Your ocean colliding with my shores
Warmed contently by a rolling fog
Obscuring everything but each other