summer praise

caught between the lines drawn with two thick black pieces of chalk. there's dust in the air and i find it hard to inhale and then i have nothing at all to exhale. it's just a cough and i feel as if there are hands on my throat. the fingers dig into my skin and I close my eyes. it doesn't have to be so violent, though. we can run through fields on blue sky, yellow sun, pink flower days. we can fall on our backs and wish on a cloud. yes, this is called day-time desiring. it's not a nighttime ritual where stars get wishes shoved upon them. it's just a cloud. maybe the whitest. maybe the puffiest. maybe the one that's moving the fastest and we can stop it long enough to cast our wish upon it, before we lose sight of it to the brown mountain. our wish. we share. it's not a mine nor a yours thing. it's simply simple and all the colors make us smile and shine. we've forgotten the snow-cold winter days when we wore nothing but frost on our faces. for now is the time for freckles. the time for blonding of hair.