we prune blackberries together in the afternoon
the scent of sun-warmed pine needles on the air
the smell of childhood camping trips
a taste of wilderness
wildness
seclusion
the delicious fantasy of living amongst the pines
lost to the world
and haven't we done it, love,
haven't we gotten ourselves lost here
lost in love
lost to the world
lost to everything but each other
in these pine mountains?
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