It was Saturday morning. Toby was playing with his friends.
Toby wanted to fly the kite but Majid wouldn't let go of the string. "It's mine."
"Yeeha!" Peter shouted. Toby put his hands to his ears
...
[+]
I touch my hand to the grass and it comes away wet so
I am unable to sit down.
How my hand has touched so many places like this,
places I am unable to inhabit but have grown to love
despite my best efforts.
A pair of squirrels languidly follow each other to a tree.
It is starting to rain, but the tree cover is impenetrable.
How I wish you were here with me,
watching the squirrels’ tails dampen with the rain water.
As I sit here, I consider the curls that stick to the nape of your neck.
I am unable to sit down.
How my hand has touched so many places like this,
places I am unable to inhabit but have grown to love
despite my best efforts.
A pair of squirrels languidly follow each other to a tree.
It is starting to rain, but the tree cover is impenetrable.
How I wish you were here with me,
watching the squirrels’ tails dampen with the rain water.
As I sit here, I consider the curls that stick to the nape of your neck.