sometime between
the morning sun
and afternoon air

we would sit between
the two trees
in my front yard

the white picket fence
shadowing our faces
while you braided my hair

for each twist of honey colored hair
you would whisper

carefully building the foundation of my youth
tucked between flowers
and lullabies
it was always accessible

until your words would form
a different melody
of sweet plaited kisses
deep inside the strands
that made the summer
seem as long as the braid
swimming down my back