Tuesday, July 1, 2008
You whispered the meaning of clouds to me. I murmured the meaning of stars. We played endless games of tag that summer. Our silly childgames often resulting in the rolling down of hills. My uncontrollable laughter bubbling between mouthfuls of grass you implored me to chew and spit. Then describe to you. Just so you knew how it would taste. Exhausted. We lay on the grass splaying our bodies "just so" there would be imprinted lawnangels. In our stillness the grass pricked our bodies in that insatiably delicious way you just know you are alive and onto something. Something.