Will you sit here with me in the grass for a while

as the seconds nibble at our dirt-stained toes?

Will you pretend not to know what brought us here,

and watch the day decompose?

Will you put your hand in mine and let it get sweaty

So it melts a little into my skin?

Will you let the wind answer your questions for now,

and just feel the world spin.

I don’t want to talk.

I just want to sit here.

I don’t want to talk.

I just want to let the grass grow.

-Amy Conway