maelynslavik

my hands curl around the flimsy plastic folds of my shopping bag 

as I walk home through streets tight and winding. 

it is a sunny morning, 

crisp and clear, 

and magic. 

We used to be seven

My curls used to be sunshine

Colored

You used to be stubborn

Naive stubborn.

The powder used to hit our knees

On the days

When we could eat lunch in four bites

It’s:

twisted

crinkled like

the leaves

they’re frail now,

on the edge

of not there.

scrolling photos

feverishly 

The sky is falling 

Please look up

The sky is falling

I don’t know how you can’t see it

Wait

Yes I do

You don’t want to

You choose ignorance

And stagnant water

Over knowledge