I always wanted to see Max Patch.
I found it through pictures on Instagram,
a kaleidoscope of autumn colors
made for late-night scrolling;
the place where lovers embrace,
kissed by the dimming sunset,
to take carbon-copied pictures
they’ll post hours later—
no filter necessary.
I thought I’d take the dog.
There was no one else to take,
and a wise man once said
to never waste a memory
on someone you’d hope to forget
(or maybe that was Instagram, too).
After three months together,
I knew it’d be you.
The dust covered my car on the long drive up,
until we parked,
woozy from the winding road,
blankets in hand,
to our own spot among the dying autumn grasses.
We shared a ziplock bag
of Vanilla Life cereal,
and laid close to feel the warmth between us
as the sunlight faded.
You and I were made for sunsets.