I am extensions. Lanky limbs overlapping one another in an effort to find their habitat. Twitching fingers and repeated attempts to rest. All gams and nervous vigor, I squint up into creamy lemon sun. Grass is thousands of cool, emerald tinsel. The front yard, a lifetime stretched out ahead. I am weary, a traveler of nine years. An afternoon of endless breaking points, familiar discomforts and fascinations. Small stones break open in small hands with dagger dedicated to uncloaking the secrets of the universe. I broke open rocks and found love.
© *Stephica
('Sugar in Rocks' header photo by Lauren Max, Photoshop by Steph)
