Innocent Imaginary

Bright-eyed and ghostly white, she stares back at me.
Let’s be friends, the first and last words she ever spoke.
Let’s be friends.
After that, a blur,

A warm hand in mine, leading me across
Open fields strewn with violet flowers
A cascading red sun exploding like fireworks,
Food rich like satin running through my fingers.

The people I met.
The enemies we fought.

w a k i n g