Golden hour
Taking photographs on the lawn
Hand-cut cloth
Your poetry was on
Red stained heels
From stepping on strawberries

We laid down until our backs turned green
We spun cocoons and lived inside
Slept for years and groomed towards light

"But I'm so afraid of what's out there,"
You said to me as I combed your hair

So are we wrong to go?
Get so intwined in it?
Did we really know?
'Cause I thought I did
Know you
Know you
Know us
I don't