Adriana.K.Maxwell
Yoyo, spin down, roll back up, it is the return that brings you love, no destination just the soothing movement, sold cheap in the screen window of the sari-sari
Violin screeches, young fingers learning, then in years smoothing from craggy mountains to flowing waves of sound
Snake sliding through the grass, do you ever curse the one who brought you down like this, took your voice, as you slink in humiliation, do you ever think how one who looked like you destroyed you before you even left your egg?
Yellow is my favorite color. It is sunshine and happiness, bright dandelion smiles, like tiny suns, stubbornly breaking through concrete and sailing away on children's wishes to bring color to a tediously perfect lawn.
Lava seeps in, we crouch on top of couch cushions, maybe we can jump to the table top, keep your feet steady, will we make it?
The tomato plant is dying, the summer was too much, still red fruits waiting to shrivel up in the heat, next year will try again.
Yummy snack from the microwave, cheese and hot fingers, splashed salsa, quick and easy, movie night
Kiwi bird screeches in the grass, devil sound from a flightless wonder, scratching on the earth, night wanderer, small and strange
Jalapeno spicy, I turn away. Others may like the heat, but it is not for me. I want to bite my food, I don't want it to bite me.
Icicle hangs from the awning, dripping so slowly, creating a little crater in the snow as we walk past with cloud-breath and red cheeks
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