star

As I’m writing this I’m lying in bed in Nuevo Horizonte. A small jungle town in the north of Guatemala where around 100 people live and work together. Recently (a day ago) we wrapped up our time in San Juan La Laguna with our homestay family’s.

i dreamed of the windmills again - 

four big gentle giants towering over the blue-green mountains, 

whirling round the clock like out-of-sync ballerinas, 

I've been seeing a lot of girls on Pinterest

With bodies that don't look like mine

And I don't look away, because they are beautiful--they are pictures I look for and want to see

it rained the night of our arrival -

big, whooshing gasps of whitewashed rain & thunder that

shook heavy against the darkening skies. dinner went long.

we only sang louder, deafening echoes beneath the storm as

the air tastes like honey and promise 

sticky with the scent of blooming jasmine 

and freshly cut grass that crunches beneath bare feet 

the sky drips blue 

stretching wider every afternoon 

your birthday was halo-lit nights and cigarettes in sugar cakes—

melted icing smeared over the tips of flames snuffed out in the dark.

you asked for a songbird, said your lungs were burnt with apocalypse dust