i. it is a sleepy summer afternoon. i am four. I am playing outside when mama calls out to me. sleep, she says. i don't like sleeping. i'd much rather play. mama tucks me in.
ii. it is a sleepy summer afternoon. i am nine. i am a big girl now. i will not sleep. father cuts up mangoes in the balcony. i stay awake in the hot air heavy with mango scent and family music.
iii. it is a sleepy summer afternoon. i am thirteen. i want to sleep, but i have homework to do. Mom brings me a lemonade to help me.
iv. it is a sleepy summer afternoon. i am seventeen. my parents are sleeping. i tiptoe into their room and increase the intensity of the fan. it is my last summer at home.
v. it is a sleepy summer afternoon. i am twenty. my apartment seems empty in the midst of all the furniture. I want to be tucked in, but instead, i go to work.
YOU ARE READING
Prismatic Memories
Poetry"i. they tell me they cannot comprehend art. where art is, whispers reside. ii. i tell them that the only art i need are the words that bleed onto paper. iii. they tell me it doesn't work that way. there are compromises for art. sports. scie...
