morgan & his little sister rabbit

Morgan and his little sister Rabbit a poem by Jessica Le It starts with the bottom of the pot. Or maybe it starts with [[the spoon.]] Or [[the hand that fed.]]

So it was the two of us backlit by the fire, staring out into the field like we could plant our hands and grow teeth around them. In the sky we watched the clouds regrow in slow motion. [[Go back for Rabbit's doll.]] [[The building is burning. Forget it.]]

[[sometimes things are inevitable|start]]

So it was the two of us, our heads touching and the sky a heavy blue hand blooming on your cheek. While walking down the path you reach into your back pocket and slyly shake a tin of candies so I can hear them. Against the pinched sky the ash looks more than usual. Smoke unfurls in the distance like Grandpa unfolding himself from his chair in the summer, his pipe in his mouth and walnuts in his hand. [[I am you and you are me.]] [[Wouldn't trade this for anything.]]

So it was the two of us, our heads touching and the sky a heavy blue hand blooming on your cheek. While walking down the path you reach into your back pocket and slyly shake a tin of candies so I can hear them. We soak our feet in the still water and watch the current drag by, lazy in the heat of the sun. And then the world suddens into rain so we duck away into the canoe of a tree canopy. There, we wait for [[the world to stop turning.|start]]

So it was the two of us backlit by the fire, staring out into the field like we could plant our hands and grow teeth around them. In the sky we watched the clouds regrow in slow motion. The moon scrapes our faces raw and the dirt scrapes our faces raw and you hang our shirts in the middle of a rainstorm. The wind makes them butterfly. It sure isn't much. I am you and you are me. You drink the rest of the soup with your back to me. Against the sky you are invisible. [[Tomorrow|start]] morning we'll find miracles in the wheat field but tonight we are two invisible heat deaths, blinding against the sun.

So it was the two of us backlit by the fire, staring out into the field like we could plant our hands and grow teeth around them. In the sky we watched the clouds regrow in slow motion. The moon scrapes our faces raw and the dirt scrapes our faces raw and you hang our shirts in the middle of a rainstorm. The wind makes them butterfly. And so we sit in a circle around the fire, watch the sprigs of orange land in your hair and then disappear. We cry when the spoon clangs against the bottom of the pot. [[I am you and you are me.|start]] As long as you're here I have nothing to be afraid of.

So it was the two of us, our heads touching and the sky a heavy blue hand blooming on your cheek. While walking down the path you reach into your back pocket and slyly shake a tin of candies so I can hear them. Against the pinched sky the ash looks more than usual. Smoke unfurls in the distance like Grandpa unfolding himself from his chair in the summer, his pipe in his mouth and walnuts in his hand. We gorge ourselves on summer watermelon, spitting the seeds out onto the grass. I correct you on your own name. We lie with our bellies rock in the sun, and I listen to you remember this [[for the last time.|start]]

So it was the two of us, our heads touching and the sky a heavy blue hand blooming on your cheek. While walking down the path you reach into your back pocket and slyly shake a tin of candies so I can hear them. Against the pinched sky the ash looks more than usual. Smoke unfurls in the distance like Grandpa unfolding himself from his chair in the summer, his pipe in his mouth and walnuts in his hand. You can have this pebble. Then you have this flower. You have the last piece of candy. I watch you take sugar and turn it into tea. I'm hungry. I want to eat rice. And eggs. And noodles. And watermelon. [[It is a sopping wet afternoon.|start]]