we’re written in the trees, darling

she said, the summer vegetarian,

beets of papaya peel paisley on our blanket

i read the trees all summer

by october, the words had yellowed –

fading, they fell, ugly and twisted from the sky

when the freeze set in,

no more words were written, nothing punctuated the silence;

there were only

the stars.

Monika Swiatek currently works and resides in London. She is passionate about writing and photography, finding that the two often intertwine into intricate patterns worth exploring. She is currently working on her first collection. More of her writing and photography can be found here