Sweetness

Oh, to be a gremlin child again.
Unruly and bright,
and hot to the touch.
Covered in grass stains and scrapes.
Hair unbrushed
with daisies in the knots.
With no concept of my own physicality.
Halfway up the tree in the front yard
and eating an apple around a missing tooth.
Getting scolded for ruining my Sunday best
which I wear to pray to a God I don’t believe in
for the sake of my mother.
To be unabashedly ugly.
To be unashamedly hungry.
To be healthy
and hearty
and lean
and covered in bruises
and filled to the brim with love
and sun-ripe peaches.
To feel time stretch forever,
only flying when I’m reading books
or tripping over my own untied shoelaces.
To love summer once more.
To love life.
Syrupy sweet,
and soft to the touch.