Her hand moved slowly across her forehead, feeling the salty sweat that her body had pushed through her pores. Her fingers moved slower than even the bulging drops of water as they crept off her brow and hit her cheek. It was the type of weather in which you can hear the heat as well as you can see and feel its breath. The beautiful weather that reminds your body where it belongs- to the earth and nothing else. She remembered back to the beginning of time as she knew it, back to days without speech and comprehension. When the same dry dirt which formed grand canyons held her small toes in its grasp and choked her baby cries from her throat before they were formed. She remembered the old drunks who were not allowed inside who would play with her and treat her kind. Lost fathers finding lost children among the old pizza boxes from hand out soup kitchens. First memories encrusting bitter bread and relatable existence’s from adults who chose responsibilities instead to give up. That heat which covered her then and crept into the sky to follow her the rest of her life. That heat which returned to her on the blue paint chipped steps in which she held watermelons close and swallowed the seeds. In which she could then speak but didn’t as she learned that skin not only feels the warmth of fire but also the biting cold of color, felt most when one does not belong. She remembered the different type of warmth she felt when she believed for once that she did belong, a scattered thought that tricked the consciousness into ideas of forever and never. The warmth of sweat, she remembered, will hold true past space and time and lyric and rhyme. To feel it, she confessed to herself, was to feel alive and to be alive. To feel warmth of belonging, instead, can come and go and is at all times unpredictable. No this heat, although it often is told to encompass the fires of hell, it holds together truth of prickly deserts and storms, of memories ripped and torn, the warmth of life that blossoms in pain is the only color that can bring the rain. When sweat and fire embraced to live regardless of the weather, warmth you can give to others she decided to remembered.
