Sophia So Far

She has cream-coloured patches on her elbows and knees, as though God changed his mind halfway through painting her. The summer rain is the sequins on her shirt. It’s her hair gel. Her lip gloss. She wears her heart on her sleeve like it’s the latest trend. Dauntless. Lion-hearted.

Dancing.

Arms splayed out effortlessly to balance barefoot along the short stone railing. Feet kicking pedals to send fallen rain flying from her wheels. All rangy legs smudged with earth. All dark tangles, doe eyes. A voice like jazz and playground pebbles. A certain sense of freedom not yet tainted by adulthood

She sings me colourful strings of profanity and innuendos, made even more scandalous by our adolescence. She sings me giggle fits and ghost stories. She sings me philosophy, and film quotes, and I love yous.

She makes it easy to forget how much pain she’s in.