mai (zing_boom) wrote,
mai
zing_boom

grief.

grief.

i have come closer to her, have gotten to know dearly this year, as we have sat up late nights and early mornings in my bed speaking to each other. she is old. she is an old woman with wrinkled hands who smells like avon powder and a moist, warm nap. sometimes, she falls so far into her bend that she hardens into a boulder, in which case, she smells like earth. under direct sunlight, she is 5 years old, red faced and sweaty from either running hard or crying hard. no matter the age, she is always sturdy. she is the bull with a tender heart, the bull you want to wrap your arms around, get closer to, starting with the chest. until you realize she is still a bull kicking up dust, kicking the ground beneath your feet open.
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