Читать книгу i didn't mean it but i sort of did - kelsey rakes - Страница 4

the winter protection grew as temperatures dropped and i hibernated inside of my head. my body constructed a layer around my bones and muscles, insulating me from brittle reality. i was march-cocooned.

now temperatures creep higher and the sun peeks out in camera-shutter seconds. warm? frigid? the air is indecisive and heavy, like my hands, like my heart.

i am a birdsong and 6.9 daffodils tall. i am bursting out of a harsh winter into an even harsher spring. i feel tuliped; i’m the heaviest iris that could never be picked. cut and dry me, bells of ireland hair, foxglove fingers, spine whittled from hickory.

this spring i will rub my eyes and strip layers off of my ribs, exposing pale, wet, flesh. i will set myself to dry in the sun and i will be fragile. not a rose, not a tulip, no—i will be a dandelion.

when i die, my bones will blow apart like dandelion seeds.

make your wish.

letmebethinletmebebeautifulletmebeloved.