It was like your second cousin,

the one who stopped coming

to Thanksgiving

most of the time

but shows up sometimes

and you remember a picture

of her holding baby you

with blond curls and energy always

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