Tuesday, March 23

In a flirtacious mood, I put on my jeans that are too big (rolled up my calves in the Tom Sawyer/high-water style, only to feel the rain on my legs) and a white t-shirt. As I stretch upwards to get a glass from the top shelf, he’s staring at my stomach, hipbones, hint of ribs.

Later I’m sloshing through puddles with the babies and singing an old song (you’re so vain/you probably think this song is about you). Poe nudges my back and squeals her little foal squeal, mouth open with teeth bared and hooves firmly planted in the ground. She’s a stubborn one.

While he’s watching I lick chocolate from my fingers and dance circles in the rain. It’s a beautiful day.


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