The Beings We Weren't

We always descend into nature. Sitting on a pair of rocks in the middle of the woods, we talked quietly about Lorca and Hemingway. We quoted Wilde and touched each other’s freckles in the heat of the sun. You told me that you could never feel lonely out in the open like that. We took off our shoes and buried our feet into the cool wet earth. We waited for years, our limbs entwined, to take root and grow. We became tall and bent, leaning against one another, playing tricks in the woods.