I remember watching her during the summertime
when it seemed too bright to sleep
and too bright to drift down the stairs
and out into the blaring, bustling world
all ready to push me out
at a moment’s notice.

so I would sit with the bedsheets
still curled around my feet
too scared of letting go of yesterday
and peering over the shoulder of today
through a window pane
with only empty spaces and a fence
-mouth sagging and silent
between me and the world.

Me- sitting lost and alone,
with stars drooping over my head
weary and old from going along with
every minute dream and flurry of inspiration.

and her with liquid arms
revolving around the curve of the sun
hidden between her arms
and a watered down lullaby
playing against her lips,

cradling the sun like a new born
she couldn’t bear to set free.

sending prayers in the fluid strokes
of her hands and feet brushing against the soil
making her grasp the belief that
magic was taking place,
that she was the world,
and that there was a miracle
ready to change it all over again.

and when the sun filled up the sky
shining through the gaps of tree's broken teeth
she managed to smile
and take a leap.

and between the sun rising and falling
she slowly found herself steady and sturdy,
riding on the yin and yang
submitting to her outdated heart.

and I eventually found myself
flying out the door
with direction and road signs spinning behind me
as I ran into you
and learned to forgive myself too.