Are there bits of me floating around in the air this very moment?
Thoughts that make their way across an ocean of people,
To travel far and settle on your skin?
Do they then sink right through and spark the fires in your heart
And cause the smoke to bellow out with your breath,
As it meets the cold outside?
I can’t help but think that all this,
Happens so that I may find you someday.
Is it the smoke that I must follow to find your flame?
The Olive Grove| <(") 