I am small in my galoshes
the sun reflects into rivers
of light, we are adventurers

my fried and I, lost boys hidden
under our lace and braids, together under
one second star to the right umbrella

the hale gray sky overturns in our eyes
We gather moss under our nails, dark hairs
tangle with violet march thistles

birds are dark spear heads thrown
from the earth. The world is raw, flawless
against our chapped lips splitting

into grins. We smear the red away like war
paint across rocks and bark, our arms
and cheeks. We are fierce and do not know

what it means yet, to give our blood
so freely. The rivers of light fade
into the evening. Shadows slide

from our backs and grow in silence.
The blood dries and flakes away
into nothing.