She made the choice.

No longer young.

Below the frayed hem of his shorts.

The glee in sharing it.

Ready; expectant.

Looking for her beginners mind.

Hunched over.

Like polished stones.

Fresh air.

Open it up.

She's almost home.

Blindfolded.

Someone else's pretty life.

Spring forth.

Her favorite summer.

The bus blew right past.

She worried about her ankles showing.

Let the radish take the picture.

Good.

A temporary welt on her hand.

Call this one a success.

She didn't complain.

Forgive the content.

Kiss him squarely on the lips.

Sigh.

Crawl in a hole.

A lull in the shadows.

That siren's call.

It's that twist she likes.

She coddled them.

At the last moment.

Reborn.

She wouldn't let go.

They ran in circles.

It was hot; dusty.

With two bunches of carrots.

Gift wrap it with a big red bow.

Old time music.

A long lunch.

Something different.

Threadbare.

Eating ice cream.

She wants to feel good inside.

Windows rattling.

She braces herself.

Everything is a memory.

The bus was crowded.

Their summer vacation.

Three, as a matter of fact.

Buried.