Freshly baked bread dangled before pigeons.
The colour orange and its place in the sky.
My big forehead and Daddy’s coconut tree.
Pears, peanut butter and August twenty-sixth.
Happiness, lies and goodbyes.
Smiles, frowns and art making.
Seductive, fearless, indecisive.
Norma Jeane’s Marilyn Monroe.
A metaphor for the things alive inside me.
Skin, fat and almond eyes.
A cover-up for the dead things at my feet.
Burning, freezing, shaking.
The sun behind the clouds
And how it shines through me.
God illuminating inside me
And the flies who flock to the light.
Her name is Leaf,
and on February fifteenth I became her.