[ladies of the solstice]
S e n e c a
i rest, spine curved like the trunk of an old tree, as wind draws icy circles against my skin. inhaling a shaky breath, grey pricks the edges of my eyes and caresses my lips. the girls, they run barefoot skin kissing brittle grass and polyester dresses rubbing softly against their shins, callow laughs float up like fog painting their cheeks a vibrant rose. i watch as they link arms and saunter off towards the cedar trees, 127