I can pull the sun from my pocket
You don’t believe me?
Watch
I can shine it on the end of my sleeve
We can crowd around it like children
We are children
I can open the sun from enfolded skin
Scrape it, expose its yellow core;
Yellow and red and sweet, you can smell it
There is orange peel under my fingernails
And citrus in our noses
We can pull apart segments
And listen to its heartbeat
We can eat the orange triangle
By shared thoughts
And taste something together
We are eating a kiss.
We are eating a hug
There is hand-holding in our stomachs
Miriam Thorp is a high school student who grew up in love with the postmodern surrealism of Norton Juster and down to earth, anecdotal humanity of Harper Lee. Alongside a love for debate, skateboarding and fashion, she listens for the sound of the words everywhere. Miriam loves writing and hopes she never runs out of stories.