Summer

The end of summer is the dismantling of the docks at the Union. Piece by piece we retreat into autumn. The water is uninviting us, becoming cold and choppy. I want to live downtown where theres always people to watch, the inspiration to create churning in my head. My fingers itch to paint, my camera ever ready to capture time and growth, forcing it to stay still. I can't read fast enough to keep up with my mountain of books my mind is aching to read. It towers like a stack of hot dogs at a food eating contest. The colors of the union are so bright and the sun so warm. The orange, green, yellow is the smoothie I am drinking. Fresh and sweet like first bite of fruit dripping down your chin with every sip. In this moment I am happy because I feel fully alive. The air I breathe is sweet and the same as the air that blows my hair and cools my shoulders. I hear laughter and talking, unsure of whether it's those around me or my thoughts in my head. I am beautiful at my prime with the world open. I am fighting being dismantled.