You May Forget My Going

Have you ever carved your name into a tree? Singly or bound to another's inside a juvenile heart? For a moment let's disregard the fact we are scarring nature and instead focus on that moment of bliss and young love that drives people to wield a knife and leave permanent marks on growing things. I have never felt that sort of mystical infatuation that makes romance seem eternal, nor felt the need to leave an impression of myself on some place through name or initials--I always feel like a passerby without any permanent claim to a spot that I am just beginning to be familiar with. But there's real appeal to a marked tree covered with names and dates and even winking knowing eyes at new lovers that come to add their personal scratches to its bark. Perhaps one day I'll make some lasting impression on person or piece of nature...


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