and then I found

From days in the roller derby on Broad Street spread out on the tarmac like sunscreen on your back at the beach we used to go to. Flowers smell like stale toast and dandelions are still all I ever think of anymore--it's like you erased the good and the bad in the instant you told me, 'it's not for us' but it was us anyway. The days I spend counting flower petals hoping to land on 'he loves me' but always ending on 'not'. You remind me of the smell of salt on the wind as it races back from the sea, wild and bursting with stories we can't read; but I breathe you anyway.