You reminded me of a child
Perhaps it was the way you breathed in the air
as if you would never taste
it again. You were in love
with the senses. You were movement. Like the wind.
You were always stirring, but never lost in time.

I get really upset when I think back on time.
But it’s hard for me to imagine you as anything other than a child
with your hair caught up in the wind.
I think of you when I smell strawberries in the air.
I think about that day you told me they were your first love
and that I was your second. I miss the taste.

I wish we could go back and taste
the strawberries together. And you could tell me again and we wouldn’t think about time.
We could just think about love.
And we could lie in the grass and I could draw faces on your skin like a child.
We could lie in the grass and let the air
carry away everything but us on the back of the wind.

You always liked the wind.
You said it reminded you of other places. That you could taste
a world outside of ours mingled in the air.
I thought you were brilliant. Every time
you opened your mouth I was enthralled and I’d sit at your feet and listen like a child.
It was those days that I first fell in love.

I try not to think about love
or those long summer days when we would sit outside for hours just because you liked the wind.
Because if I start, I can’t stop and I’m carried back to what it felt like for you to hold me like a child
and I would have followed you anywhere because I wanted to taste
the things you tasted. I wanted to follow you into time
and breathe in the sweet, intoxicating aroma that lingered in your air.

Now, all I have left of you is the air
and those feelings that that I get when I smell the strawberries. Sometimes it feels like love
and I’ll have to get away and let time
carry me into your arms on the back of the wind.
And for a moment, I’ll lie there and remember what it was like to taste.
And I’ll cry like a child.