'Not What We Came Here For' by Julia Ruth Smith

We lay down to love in a field of fire-red, flutter-flutter flowers without knowing their name in our language.

We skim-skimmed perfect stones from the shore of the far-from-home licking lake as it watery-lapped at our city shoes.

We tumbled to the train, our knees grazed with happy earth-mud and excitement.

I’d remember that day as the foul factory air took your hand and I coughed out your name at the graveside.