i’m going to pretend my heart from you

Unnerving and delicate, if you stuck a lightbulb in my mouth it’d probably light up from the currents going through my tongue.  The leaves are starting to bud, to struggle against the thin crispness of the branches that house them, and I love watching nature take shape.  It always starts with the air, and she can tell because when she walks out it feels like her nerve endings have been reborn.  Her nose is functioning again, where the rest of the year it just sticks out like some weird form on her face, serving no purpose – dulled by the cold or ignored because of the wind or else. It feels like the air is blooming now.

Patient and cold, the grass earns back its colours.  Turtle shells crawl around the wooden floors of my house, flies get stuck in dark corners, mice come out of the pipe from underneath my sink.  The sanatorium breaks free with new yells, doors splayed like girl’s legs to the world – rash and with quickening intensity realizing that something big is happening.

Something real big.  Flower festivals are starting to be planned and planted.

People wear thinner scarves.

Coats made of less material.

Buds and buds and air.

-Arina

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