the sun.
the sun heats my back, my hair, and the temperature of my cheeks start to rise.
i’m in front of my texan home again, watering the plants as the sun descends.
but i’m in boston a decade later.
same sun, different photons,
different skin layers, same heart.
other hills to mount, the world to see,
traveling soul, glad soul.
i was attributed the color green and orange when i asked what aura i gave.
is that how people see me?
green for how much i love the earth, despite its poisons.
orange for the sun, despite all corrosions.
so then, i am leaf, pine, wood, cinnamon.
skin, clay, sun.