May 28, 2025
inheriting the suns weight
(may 28, 25' 4:01am)
[] the summer my mother told me i was finally taller than her, the smell of the sun and the caress of the breeze, something about it was painfully warm. then blue. then pink, sunsets painting the wet pavement that will evaporate when the morning rises with the heat again, birds singing as her hair softly sways in the wind like she was always part of the wind. the summer. the sunlight and everything that smells sweet and tastes like honey. even in her absence there is home in her memory
