1 I feel it pass over my collarbone travel down the center of my chest wet and round It is not yet summer But I know those long days of sound, the deep breathing of birds and bugs as they live, live, live so loudly in wet heat I was a child when we met and I knew nothing of people Didn’t understand why they got angry or what they wanted The dirt from the garden was on my knees and on my cheek When I lay in the grass, ants walked all over and bit me sometimes, I didn’t like that The sun, yellow, yellow like a lemon I licked my arm because I wanted to taste the difference—what the sun did to it
beautiful streams of consciousness
Thank you, Sandra. :)