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Querida Tierra,

I long for 5 cent gummies and walks over old brick streets. I long for some real cold weather and hot chocolate. I long for the 20 minute train ride and the not-so-big city life. I long for sunflower seeds and simple strolls at the park. I long for roasted chestnuts rolled up in newspaper cones. I long for late dinners and later curfews. I long for red wine with my every meal and I long for hash joints. I long for simplicity and genuine friends. I long for pedestrian filled streets where menus hang out of bars, written in chalk, using the finest font. I long for apple cider in the summer and rocky beaches, too. I long for the life I had then, but I long it without you.

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People are like sunflower seeds. Take them peeled or peel them yourself.

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Hidden is the hole that you bare and wear and have no other choice because it’s there. And rules, my good friend, are written to be followed. Had you known any better, you wouldve read the manual: a heart beats to be broken. And art is hung up on the wall, not looking into your eyes. But after cups of coffee in between your sheets and some time ago, you noticed, I noticed, we stopped caring. During your temporary absence, I always found you tangible. Slight static slowly sunk into my ears and I’d tune into you. I read it somewhere: You no longer supplement my existence.

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The sun casts upon me a beautiful light and a beautiful spell.

(Eyes shut, Rays in.)

Before me shines this positively, motivational moving color. The brightest of oranges and pinks, kissing my eyelids. Caught in a slow chase, they move lazily. Warm like a bed of flowers sunbathing.

My fingers play a tune to the the Wind and he follows causing a chill, my mouth now curving into laughter. And on my lips, in the shape of slits, lies sin.

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The sound of rain is so tranquil. The sight of it can be mesmerizing. As it hits the ground I’m reminded of salt shakers. It can smell like cool wet asphalt or like freshly dampened dirt, depending on where you are on this Earth.

There’s a child in me, an impulsive, irrational little being, that wants to go out and run in the rain. Not only run, but jump from puddle to puddle. Spring up with all my might and SPLASH! right back down to the ground. The rain feels cold and alive. I’m reminded that I’m a warm blooded being while beginning to catch Nature’s blissful kisses with my tongue. She loves us and we know this. This is her way of being gentle with us.