Bubble Gum? Ylang Ylang? Sunburned Shoulders?

Who is the teller of black lies? The maker of promises unkept? You fold fortunes into fitted sheets while whistling a Lizzo tune. Will the lover of light finally turn to gold?

I walked the dog early to avoid the heat but even so, she couldn't go far. I dropped her off and went on and on and on. Too far. Too long. But body and soul said: do this. On the air: fresh laundry, cut grass, cigar smoke, lilacs, musky damp earth, straw and finally, skunk. People tied kayaks to their cars and polished boats and packed campers. North. They all go north. I divert through the woods along Rush Creek. All waters are running fast enough to hiss. Do you throw pebbles into the river? Do you draw with half broken sticks in the muddy banks? Do you close your eyes and set your head on your knees and wonder how this is all going to fit?

On the way back, lavender blooms of wild geranium brush the palm of my hand. Will you please stargaze with me tonight? Cheap wine works. But before that, brats on the grill, an inspection of growing things, maybe a cartwheel in the grass? In the too-long grass I feed my skin to the sky. Just take me; I have no otherwise but to give my light-loving self over to you.

Your hand reaches through the mirror. Can I grab it? They used to call me Pippi Longstocking and pull on my braids. “It means he likes you,” they used to say. Fuck that, okay? Stop telling your kids that. Stop letting that shit happen. I remember when he pulled my hair while having sex and I was like, “is this a thing?” Well, it's a thing alright. Do I like it? Ask me first next time and I won't put my elbow through your Adam's apple.

I remember winning Homecoming Queen and buying a fancy dress. My hair was long and red and I braided it with a skinny black ribbon like a crown around my head. A friend of the family in cahoots with my mother offered to do my makeup for the night. I agreed to see how it looked. While she was putting it on my face, she whispered, “ I've been dying to do this to you for years.” Another message about how things should be done.

Late in the day, before dinner, I need to shower. Peeling my shirt off, I bring it up to my face to smell. . . bubble gum? Ylang Ylang? Sunburned shoulders? Sweat, for sure. And maybe a hint of skunk. The shower is quick. I just wash my hair and shave as quickly as possible. Not too quickly though;. watch the ankles and knees!

In lessening light, a rabbit has supper in the deep clover patch. Its ears glow with sunset and I swear the veil is that thin, if one exists at all anymore. Heaven and earth. Here and there. Whatever is next belongs to you.