We were always hungry. We were never satisfied. We were curious, lost, desperate. We were clawing at an uncertain future we wanted to belong to us. We were six and eight, then seven and nine, eight and ten. Early nineties. The two of us, sisters. Our bodies mere slips in time, underdeveloped, flimsy. We had constant bruises from playing outside, tumbling on jungle gyms. The summer brought three months of mosquito bites and sunburns. The winter brought pale bodies that built forts out of old blankets and laundry baskets. Five minutes, five days, five months, it was all the same. Time, this strange thing, never moving fast enough. We wanted to be older. We wanted shapes to our bodies. We wanted breasts and hips, wanted smooth legs and makeup on our faces. We wanted to know the world.
Published by Yalobusha Review by Ole Miss