#downwithbigcorn

[dylane]

little swimmers

after a long, restful evening of playing pretend sumos, sipping cherry vinegar, and talking without the use of fricative sounds, we emerged onto the open space, breathing quietly, licking our summer wounds like papercuts freshly peeled, the uncertain steps we take across dewy grass, the shifting gurgle of saliva when we forget the next word, our hands as pruners culling the bodies, the breakage, the droplets: all the little swimmers coming up for air.