PILLOW - WEPT |
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03.25.03 . 6:10 a.m. in the hustle / bustle of an afternoon i find myself lost in the sunlight bleeding red & orange onto my skin. i sit still & quiet and ignore traffic and the buzzing of people. i kick my shoes off and fight trying to get them back on without using my hands. i twirl the ends of my hair and notice the strands of blonde still left over. i shut my eyes and allow my other senses to take hold of me. i smell lawns being cut. i smell children's sticky fingers from one to many chocolate Fudge Bombs. i smell hamburgers being grilled on someones back porch in a nearyby neighborhood. i feel tiny blossoms that have fallen astray from trees blow across my legs i feel the way the ends of my skirt flip upwards towards my knees. i feel the vibration of lawn mowers and buses. i hear playgrounds being used & swingset chains squeaking from rust build-up. i hear swimming pool splashes and tiny feet pitter pattering across hot cement. i hear dogs barking at passing cars. i taste the salt in the breeze that has traveled up from the Gulf. i taste the chlorine that once belonged to the tips of my fingers from when i checked the temperature of the pool. i taste the strawberry suckers i ate when i was a little girl and loved so much...the flavor buried in the creases of my bottom lip. there are never worries on days like these.. there are only memories and sensations and hums of birds and children playing. this is summer time. this is what i like best about paying attention. x |
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