Monday, March 8


My skin spread thin across dense bones, red and tight, sun-blistered. Summer skin. Damp fabric clawed at exposed nerves. Golden heat boiled blood, silently flowing through freckled veins. The world was still and quiet. Ripe leaves fell from ancient trees, caressing fraying rope swings before they rippled the surface. I dug my elbows into the hard raft and arched my back, dipping my toes into cool liquid. The water was enticing, coaxing my sultry flesh to delve deeper into furrowed waves. I tilted my frame, crawling to the edge, tipping groaning boards beneath me. Slowly, I emerged.
          Scabbed Knees,
                     Freckled fingers.
                              Goose bump-covered limbs.
                                        I slipped inside cool water, back into the womb.
Cherry blossoms drenched my fluid skin. Water slipped past peeling eyes, sinking into white sockets. The world was different here, quieter. Sunbeams skimmed the water, eager to break the surface. Swaying rope swings dangled above me, in another dimension it seemed. A water bug waltzed overhead, twirling around escaping air pockets slipping from my throat. Lack of oxygen left aching lungs and throbbing fingertips. Weightless, underwater. I refused to give up the beautiful world I had just entered. Naked legs stirred the water in front of my lids and a familiar voice sang. Lunch was waiting. I succumbed, and reemerged.
Sincerely, Madison.

1 comment:

  1. Your work amazes me and your words have spread the joy to my daughter, when I shared your blog with her, yesterday. Thank you for giving my sweet daughter such a priceless gift.