This place, where we ran through fescue fields,

hands clasped

your laugh echoing through the rolling hills.

Why do I return here?

The same rugged walls we

dangled our legs over

finding tranquility in the crash of

waves below.

I still smell the sickly sweet ocean

running along the cliffs,

spray reaching up, clinging to my skin,

dampening the curls on your head.

You showed me this place,

the beauty of bleached driftwood on sand

a night sky covered with glowing blemishes.

You showed me this place--

where are you now?

I lie here, cold sand pressed to my back,

counting each imperfection in the sky

and wonder, have you joined them?