no reason

she closed her eyes, bit her lip silently. enveloping joy, letting folds rush in, surging inside with pictures sent of: dandelion prints and checkered tableclothes, sticky faces and the wind on a race through her hair. her little blonde sister, sitting cross-legged on the lawn with her. eating bowls of ice cream. making paper dresses, stitching together frocks to pick berries in. arranged lifesaver marriages. john two doors down. riding his bicycle. rollerskate cuts and street steam after a thunderstorm. the consistency of wet chalk drying. hooked thumbs on belt loops, overall clasps cold. first kiss by the water fountain and it was truly unexpected. a story about a mermaid, becomes a story about a girl. and a boy with a puppy.

easter passing. she ties her hair up in a bundle and closes her eyes, bites her lip but not her tongue. the laugh escapes, mixing with the scent of rushing suburban yards and car trip wind. the mosquito bite on her left leg doesn't even tickle too bad anymore.

happy. yes she is happy.