One more thin gypsy thief (poppyjar) wrote,
One more thin gypsy thief


I spun a backyard dandelion between my thumb and forefinger, sitting on the grey stairs of the porch. I watched him change the ancient wiper blades. I studied the crack in the windshield and his shoulders. I touched the white milkblood stem to my tongue.

Later I would confess that when I was a little girl, I did not quite grasp the difference between a flower and weed.

Sometimes I think I still don't.

He says he is grateful for the disconnect.

I say

"I love dandelions. I think they are beautiful.

But they don't leave room for anything else."
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