Dear hunter
Propped against the heavy hulk of the waste disposal, fresh snow on the ground, crisp beneath the crunch of my foot, as I stooped down to pick up the framed picture discarded on the floor. A strange calm emcompassed me. As I languidly cycled homeward, through trees and forests I dreamt of creatures that spoke and wardrobes that opened up into snowbound kingdoms. When I got to my place of comfort, I put the picture, cherished, in a spot that I could spy at it all day. Smiling I would glance at it between phone calls, and tooth pulling.
It reminded me of soft folds, and mothers arms. Of school games and hidden dresses. Of swimming classes, and ladies underwear. Of fighting against femininity, of being overwhelmed. Drunk on love for the father, and saving none for you.
