I watched as your pulse moved the tender skin between your ankle and heel.
You are alive, from the shin down- at least. I’m not always convinced-
of your amusement with this life. You tend to flutter from paltry to sky-jewels. The dry heat-
created moisture droplets on your perch- a family trait that I see in the oldest living to the newest daughter. Yours.
As you slipped into your reverie- the red ant crawled across your second toe. You jumped-
and for a moment, your heart began beating— again.
Don’t forget to drink more water. Flush out the toxin. Life sustaining. Just believe me- I will raise you up-
I love you.