Beach Peas

the buds of beach peas rested

in my damp hair

lodged behind my ear,

they added a shade of innocence

to the fiery hue of

my sunlit arrogance

disguised under thick clots of

poppy-colored, russet hair,

the buds sung a happy tune

amidst the late-july heat

my nonna sprinkles flowers

in my hair each morning

tucking them between french twists and messy buns

as a reminder that i bring life with me

everywhere i go

i am a canvas of gouache and graded wash paint

shaped continuously by the touch of those around me,

the leaf beneath my feet,

and the boundless

walk of water