SpringParamour

mama used to sing to us about peach trees and turtle shells and her hippie childhood when we lay in bed, on quiet summer nights, loud with insects outside. and you, you were always beside me, breathing softly like steady oceans waves lulling me to dreams. how i loved you, head of curls lying on hand-sewn giraffe pillows, you were my hero. some nights i would crawl in beside you, back to back (because then the monsters couldn't get us) and we would whisper about how we were different from the rest of the school-children, and it made us feel big; or murmur tales of the constellations in the sky, and how small it made us seem. you breathed into