2005

I remember red and yellow striped tulips

and the smell of rain on springs first breath

 I remember runny-nose icicles

and the snow fort made of frozen spit

   it

  all changed

   but before that there were

 The haunted houses that took it a little too far every year

and Mommy’s worst fear

of a razor blade wedged between our gums

 

And the hums from the kitchen where your dinner sits, too

hot to touch, too good to not devour

 

Back before they taught us that consumption wasn’t always a good thing

 

I remember when ketchup chips were the shit

when sex was called “it”

when all my clothes fit

 

I remember fun

And the look of my eyes without the shadow of a crescent moon beneath them

 

I remember I knew how to run

I remember fun

I remember being young