in the summer i return to my body as a broken promise wrapped in this quiet morning. today is no different: a sigh urges the sun to wake, and with it, ghosts of every season left unturned sink into slinking shadows. in the summer, i find a home in my body. buried bones like skipping stones on water, sinking to the depths. surrender is often mistaken as sacrifice, failure as fatality. as i practice breathing in the warm day and watching the stars fade in the sky, i learn what it is to be human. it is not winning or losing, because summer lingers but never stays; because beyond its surface water has substance; because among the sky are constellations promising more than a shattered morning. summer splits like a broken bone that can never really heal—only time can afford such effort—and i move on with the season.
today i return to my body as a broken promise wrapped in a quiet morning. tomorrow is departure, a shell of a skeleton. i see myself as a shadow: unbecoming, personified as failure meets fatality. it is a homecoming of sorts, in which i find myself in the mirror, trapped as memorabilia. summer shatters & i find a home within the reflection of myself.
