June 8, 2005

I slip outside into the heat to watch the sun slide away. The water in the air is warm and heavy but a breeze rolls it around my skin, as though I were moving in a breath. I sit lazily on the green plastic deck chair and reach over to pluck a strawberry. I inspect it for inhabitants, and pop it into my mouth, warm like the air, and red on my fingers. I can smell the lavendar and the thyme and I am surrounded by things I have grown. Over the edge of the railing, all I can see is sky.

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