The first bite into a watermelon wedge
is always better than the last.
All of that pink string filled liquid
dribbling down your chin with no trace
of napkins to be found.
No need for cleanliness
the next step, shove
a piping hot baby back rib into your
bucktooth filled mouth.
Yet all you smell is gray charcoal
ablaze in the matte black Webber
grill that daddy just won’t throw out.
So you take a seat at the chipped
wooden brown bench patiently
waiting for the meat to crackle
like one dollar pop rocks from the faded
ice cream truck down the street.
Tongue red from the lollipop you were
supposed to save for after dinner.
Sun’s rays beaming down
beads of sweat flowing slowly down your
clear skinned forehead.
at the mid-afternoon sun when
bells bring sweet relief.
Fast-paced jingles penetrate
through the dry air in order to place a
strawberry drumstick in your small
Slow creamy drips fit like a glove
as they harden with each lick.
All in search of the coveted fudge
core lodged at the bottom of the cone.
You see the sticky puddle illuminate
on mother’s favorite blanket but
vigorous strokes only agitate the
red and white frayed edges.
The colony of ants has already assembled
You’re supposed to push them away before she sees.
But you welcome them so you can
be alone together.
Only the sound of a distant shriek
breaks you from the black figures marching.
Wind whips across your face
Embedding the sticky liquid into your skin.
A chill fills the air surrounding your tiny body
the shadows eating up everything.
Wooden table no longer in view
Leaves crunch underneath your new glitter sneakers.
Night beams overpowering the buzzing
white fluorescent lamps complete with a
still moth trapped inside the glass.
Caterpillars have manifested on your
arms in the form of goosebumps as
the cursed crescent inches closer.
Purple tube slide has become daunting
the opening into the monster’s mouth.
Why does your light have to come
paired with deafening silence and
Grass stains cover the single white patch
On your favorite tank top.
She told you not to wander out
She always tells you not to wander.
You say it was an accident, warm tears
Paint your cheeks fresh cinnamon gum red.
Moon light fully ignited, wait for the sun
to come back out tomorrow.