Spinning.
The sight. The sensation.
That’s what I remember the most:
Spinning on the tireswing.
.Push me, Sam.
And she did.
Trees. Cerulean sky. Em in her cotton-candy-pink dress in the branches above me.
Swirl.
leaves>cerulean>cottoncandy
.You’re doing it wrong.
Joe’s skin tanned dark as coffee stains, dark as leather.
/grabbed the rope.
tripping sensation
/pulled
/let go
flying sensation
depth in my stomach.
inches from collision.
giddy fear.
!Joe!!Stop!
/strong hands
/grabbed the rope
Jay had steel-string calloused fingers that built fences.
Eyes like the rope and the water and the sky.
.Do it like this.
/pull
/touch
tingling anticipation.
/let go
flying
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