Chase me in a green field

If we ever find ourselves wanting to play the game,
lets not at the beach where the tide is high
or in the woods or the street under the
city lights.

let this be in a green field
on a spring day
where lambs take away the space for worry
where you hold me tightly when you catch me,
and meet the distant view of my wild
hair down,
free in the wind
married with the warmth
my body melts from
as my shaky legs, and the tingle at the back of my head
allow for me to let. Embrace. Mould

the new of you in the new of me.

Photo by Peter Musk on Unsplash