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Q&A With A Younger Me
May 10, 2023
Little hands grasp mine
Young eyes searching for something
“Are we pretty now?”
A sigh, holding tight
I crouch, smoothing curls
“We were always beautiful.
The others were wrong.”
Restless hands tug sleeves
Thought to be abrasive.
“Are we smart now?”
Fingers pinch at cheeks,
“We are forever learning,
Do not quench your fire.”
Shaking hands reach me
Palms indented with its own nails
“Are we happy now?”
I pull them all close
Blanketing our bodies in warmth
My own body, in love
“We will be, someday.”
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