The Lungs Remember Breath

by Aliyah Cotton

                  It was hopscotch and scraped knees    yellow monkey bars and
      hands    rubbed raw    hands that knew exactly    the weight of a pinecone
      and what it meant to the fallen thing    to be noticed and held    and thrown
                  back down again    and it was not caring that the grilled cheese
      was burnt    the charred crust caught between teeth    sneakers that lit up
      the dark    like sirens      cicadas floating at the edge of a swimming pool
                  trash bags that flew proud as kites       in wind that was still new
      and squinting one eye shut    to gaze into the navel of the moon    to ask
      her    are you an innie or an outie?      and the promise not to tell    a soul

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