spring

I could tell you that it seems like just overnight that the great magnolias shrugged off the winter and broke open their full, pink lips, every branch laughing, but it would only serve to show you how little I observe, how silly and myopic I've become. I could dance full-out over the thawing ground instead, hum a tune I make up on the spot, pretend the jangling of my bracelets is the sound of seeds scattering, that I knew all along it would come to this.