i swallowed the summer heat,
wondering if you felt the same as your words tried to claim
when you wrote me that damning letter.
i wish i'd kept it to hide it away with everything else,
but what would that change?
it still would have sounded the same when you said,
"meet me anywhere surrounded and far from here,
and i'll put the words in your mouth that you need to escape me."
i was not prepared to be spoken for,
but i had to agree, disassemble and breathe
(lest surrender to honesty).
then the wind picked up to embolden me,
echoing everything that i said.
"i could be so much more."
swim screamed, "how can this be?!
with whose help can i refrain from ascending to clarity?"