Connecting through shared experiences in life and love.
Weren’t We Beautiful
Weren’t we beautiful when we ran with abandon
down the dirt paths to the creek
and climbed trees and moved rocks
to find crawfish and skinned our knees,
and all the boys and girls laughed and cried and yelled without
restraint or gendered rules.
When we chased our pet rabbits around the yard to catch them
while our parents cleaned the tiny round turds out of the homemade wooden hutch,
and gave us red kool-aid and popsicles after,
reward for a job well done,
holding their silken soft furry ears in our fingertips
in the humid summer evenings
on the rust-painted wooden deck.
When we threw ourselves onto our skateboards and zoomed
down the uneven cement sidewalk,
where a protruding lip launched us to flight
and raucous giggles, tumbling,
and mom yelling to "stop that right now before you get hurt!"
and we felt absolutely invincible, ten feet tall,
strong like the Bionic Woman.
Weren’t we beautiful when we dreamed of our first kiss
and pressed Barbie and Ken’s faces together
in their plastic yellow, sticker-decorated sports car.
When we sat for our school portraits with hair combed down
by the thick fingered lady assistant to the mustached photographer,
eyes lit up and the unencumbered smile
with a little gap between the two front teeth,
radiating tawny-freckled pink-cheeked joy.
When we believed eating an apple seed or watermelon seed
would spark the growth of a tree or vine
in the curved lining of our bellies,
so we spat wantonly.
When the little key around our necks on a lanyard
was our key to freedom
as we walked the mile home from school
without an adult in sight,
and believed the Afterschool Specials would keep us safe
from white vans with creepy candy-offering kidnappers
who would steal us from our families,
and warnings about the illicit smoke of hand-rolled marijuana
and drug-laced rock music with psychedelic colors, unkempt hair, and smoldering discontent.
Weren’t we beautiful when we believed
our parents brilliant and omniscient
and their hugs magical
and reprobations just.
We are so beautiful.
That kernel of beauty, magic, perfection
that is everything to a child
is the savior
of the adult looking to find her way home
to herself.
