In the thick, dark green leaves of the forest, I traveled to search her. The dead leaves crackled as my boots pushed their withering veins under the land. The mists of the earth’s breaths grew colder and blurrier—I had to rub my eyes every once in a while. I tried to see the moon’s beauty, but the tall trees covered her light. I was alone in the dark.
I called her name and behind a tree trunk, someone cried. Her tears gleamed and poured out like the rushing rivers of melancholy. I knelt before her to embrace her bruised skins.
But the wind took her from my hands. She rose her head and I held her empty eyes, but she let the fingers of the breeze lull her to sleep.
Until I became on my own, as if she did not exist at all.
WORD COUNT: 145
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