Boston Forestry from Black Marigolds by The Blue Rhonda

Moths at my doorstep-light in the dripping august air
Batting at them with our bare hands.
Felt half my age as my innocent palm slipped into yours,
But adulthood brought the trembles.
Because I’ve been here before.
I know you’ll take my heart before it’s yours.

The Harvest moon is reaping clouds, the city lights chatter below
Your breath echoes of your face.
For a moments our exhales embraced inside this chill
I know that I’ll never warm your hands again.

Belief, belief: the only things that keeps me on my feet
When your future isn’t mine.
I’m chasing this dream that you placed inside of me, led me to think
That the present wouldn’t sleep.

I know that I’m responsible to be a tree that stands alone
But Boston’s forestry is limited
So I’ll re-stitch our spirit’s seams, I’ll re-thread our memories
I clutch a ghost’s hand as I walk these city streets.

Belief, belief: the only things that keeps me on my feet
When your future isn’t mine.
I’m chasing this dream that you placed inside of me, led me to think
That the present wouldn’t sleep.

We can’t lie, but some excuses would be nice
An alibi to make it easier at night
When I wake, to nostalgia by my side.

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