we tried making sense of our world. we ate strawberry jam
for breakfast, we dragged our stuffed pets behind us on strings, we jumped on
trampolines. we found a jungle in our backyard- the ballerina, the fireman and
me. we swung from the branches of trees, took in long car drives from the back
seat, invited the garden fairies for a cup of sugary tea.
we tried making sense of our world. we built sandcastles to
house our unanswered questions- most of which we had inherited before we’d even
learned to spell. we didn’t always know where to take them so we took them
to each other. or they took them to me. they (the cinnamon-bun-boy with the
trusting eyes, the girl with the bangs and the most eager smile) they were mine
to care for.
And I (the girl who wished away her freckles) I told stories
in the dark to chase away their unwelcomed dreams. I grasped at broken
branches, at cobwebs, at any water droplets I could reach- trying to button
something together they could stand on. I so meant to be the fearless leader.
Always hoping they wouldn’t notice the holes in my sneakers, wouldn’t notice
that my worldview was just a few sizes too big.
