I, foolishly, go into that swamp
and flail about unable to get out, but
in a swamp that swallows even the flailing
trapped, the moment I see your face for the last time
my breath catches.
The last light I saw was the sunlight falling behind you, and
the last air I breathed was the damp air near the swamp, and
the last color I saw was your hair color and your blush.
The green beyond that was just like background noise
I don't think I cared that much.
You are adorning my final moment.
Falling into the swamp called love, I will keep on
rewinding, thinking, and thinking again.
I loved you, I missed you, and
that I still haven't gotten out of that swamp.
