Content - Jeddah, age 15

Content

By Jeddah, age 15

The sun dips low over the horizon,
Covering the small room in a golden sheen
That softens edges and smiles. 
The crackling of the crimson fire is the melody
To the chorus of the wind that
Buffets the walls in a low baritone.
The cherries and cinnamon linger, in your heart 
Long after, the delicious confections 
Were graciously and gracefully accepted.
The air is thick with the essence of lemons
and the sweetness of lavender 
That has long dried in the incandescent daylight.
The fluff of the downy comforter 
Caresses your finger as you slip
Beneath the silky snugness. 

You close your eyes and think 
Back to the days before.
Before the sun and the 
Fire and the cherries and lavender 
And the blanket.

Back to the sadness and pain and fake
Smiles and hidden sides

You open your eyes
and look
and listen
and taste
and touch 
and smell 
and remember 
and breathe

You open your mouth and say only for yourself
"I made it"