Wednesday, November 16, 2011

crashing through childhood trees.

leaf legs.

weeeeeeeeee ♥

prehistoric hiney. 

love the buckles & fringe. 

whatta face!

hair envy.

great maroon circle scarf.




There was hay in my hair. I cannot tell you if the stars were out. There was a fence, old and wooden and sturdy. My legs swinging. I'd skinned my knee. Then sudden, his face inches from mine. Did he have a large nose? I think so. Wet, eager, childish, hopeful. Fumbling. Grappling tongues and lips crashing through childhood trees to meet under moonlit sky.



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