A soccer ball is kicked from a foot,
quickly rolling across the grass.
The grass understands the ball's duty,
and lets itself be flattened
from the glossy sphere.
It's trapped by a cleat
that rolls it away from others.
It chops it, spins it,
taps it in quick motions.
The ball is released again,
being manipulated,
but it's still given a chance
to be a hero.
It has a chance to score,
to make a difference in the game.
A soccer ball is kicked from a foot,
being manipulated, but still given chances.
Today I
ran through the rain, hair
newly cut and weightless even though
it was drenched; I
ate strawberries dusted with sugar while
doing homework, pencil
tracing neat letters across math homework I
I love post-script, thought Benvolio as he sat curled in his favorite armchair. His favorite music was humming through his airpods into his ears, and as he watched raindrops gather and drip down the windowpane, he fel
But at least I
still see the everlasting stars
sparkling in my eyes and
the constellations that connect them
to me.
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