Por: Magdalena Mihaylova
Is the freedom of youth found in its intuitiveness?
The smell of chlorine and freedom lives sharp in my mind.
I could recreate our bonfire dances for you.
But how can you not remember?
It is as if July slipped away, replaced
by the intruding nudge of adulthood. I feel it on the soles of my feet:
Pavement. Burning. Solid. Neighborhood cement and chalk.
Do you remember 2009? We pretended we started a tribe of
kid bandits in the woods behind my house. My intuition told me,
there will never be another summer like this:
the old black Honda truck, cannonballs into icy blue water,
a first CD stuffed into a purple boombox.
The dream of a generation written into the knees of children.
Time capsules in our grinning cheeks. A slender youth.
My intuition tells me there will never be another summer like this.
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