Lately, the nights are long. And days so very short --- rich, punctuated, ablaze. With children crying, running. Life on fire. I crook an elbow over my eye because it's all just a little too bright. I watch the bones in your face changing. And wonder how it is i didn't know you nine short years ago. That year the heavens opened and bits of you fell. I, your bucket. The vessel for you to get into this world. Now you run with your hands deep in the sky. Streaming color. I feel your strength grow, as mine softens. Legs like vines creeping around sheets in the night. Your childhood a huge open bloom. I look in your eyes and see myself swinging as a girl, the rhythmic sound of metal links. White wind. Crying on the playground. The feeling of making my way in a big world. More than ever I feel you knitted to my core. I am holding you there like a small bird. Braiding your hair into mine. A chain of trust and need and hope and ache. Drenched in a million colors.
Please continue the "what_____looks like" circle. The most lovely work of El Hogan is up next.