I picked the strawberry and brownie–
Always like tangy sweet touching sticky tongues.
Held hands with myself every night. Opened
the latch, kicked shoes onto the bench
and closed my eyes. The kind of seashell,
hand, ear– noise. With spoon I funneled the sound
down my throat. Felt rushing water at my ankles
but stayed quiet. Held myself close. Offered
sugar to the wind, cracked my knuckles,
and thought about the south. Remembered Christmas
spent on plantation home carving smiles into the staircase.
Girls squealed down to mothers holding their breath.
Waiting for the slide down.
