Sentience

It’s honey flavored and summer inspired. I’m in love like young kids fall in love: hard, fast, stupid. Pour another drink. Mark it on the calendar. I swear the change in seasons will bring me out and about and my freckles will darken and give birth to little freckle babies, and my hair will get back its golden touch and I will laugh, laugh, laugh for days without pause, (except to say, “oh, it hurts to laugh, its starting to hurt!”)
And that is how it will go, trapped up here in the mountains. Or near the mountains, by the mountains, a short drive from the mountains. Where the snow is stubborn and melts slowly, drizzling down hills, puddling in holes. The sun is the biggest tease in my life and I sleep with the fan on because the sound is soothing. Year round its gentle hum is heard, and in the dead of winter, it makes me creep extra deep under the blanket, fighting goose bumps, while rhythmic fingers search for warmth, until success, success, success! It is found.

These are the common things in my life: a jar full of orange and yellow shells, an open box of sewing pins, a hamper of unfolded clothes, the desire for call and reply. Where are the stars tonight, and what of theories and dreams? What are your common things and when you dream, what dreams are messing up your hair?

I drew my lips red and then left them open to possibilities.