#draftyyyy

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Littlest Sister

of three, wearing a mix-and-match of hand-me -downs like still-bright feathers that I treasured until they were too small for me, just like you.

Fitted in Hollister and Abercrombie that I hated outlining the shape of me, all awash in turquoise, gray-green, purple, pink, white— that never matched the me that wanted to always look just like the both of you.

Funny, I never knew what to do after— just wore mourning black, growing up without knowing what to color my world.

So in you both swooped, as you have done and always will do, and prodded at old molting feathers until I could cast them off myself—made space so I could stretch to full wingspan, pointed me upward and forward,

until I flew toward my own favorite sky blue.