第几天了\(‵▽′)>:10 早餐: 凤梨210 海苔30 杏仁小鱼50 午餐: 饭350 鸡胸肉120 晚餐: 鸡胸肉130 黑豆浆200 夯蕃薯220 运动: 步行一万步 喝水量: 2000 今天的心情: In ancient Greece, for all her heroes, for Medea ... water meant death. — Jesmyn Ward, Salvage the Bones i poured a bowl of cereal, threw the empty box in the trash can. granddaddy pulled the box from the trash, poured the crumbs into a bowl, then doused the sand in milk. he looked down at the bowl, murmuring about how he had survived the depression. told a story about asking for hot water at colored diners, how he would pour ketchup in cups to make soup. this was how i first learned i am wasteful. ‧ i would stand in the bathroom with my mother. would ask her why the water in the bowl was red. she would tell me she had eaten beets. i suppose i was too young to learn the truth, milkflowers spill petals red. ‧ in my catholic school of fish, we took a beautifully wrapped box, passed it around the class, unwrapping it piece by piece. afterwards it was cleverly explained that the box is a girl’s virginity the gift we give our husbands. & who wants a toy that has already been opened? half the joy is in untying the string. this is how i was taught that at my very core, i am ungrateful. ‧ i met someone recently, in an irish bar, who told me it’s about knowing what i need. he said later what you need is a wife. that night i prayed to god for just a man and not a man that trails the woe & maybe this is why god serves me wakes of milkman and tea cake a lip service of sorts at hand. ‧ maybe this is how i end up throwing good things away: phd husband stepdaughter stepson a little tiny baby unborn locked them all in flooding house with tearful grin. this is how you come to know you are unclean. ‧ at times i smell of rain, blouse damp with the cloud’s breast milk, this stomach a sloshing bowl of watery swish. i curse the phantom belly moon, can still hear the sound of you in still water. the wind begins to push a heavy rain, drops spill from every crevice of the flower. & then suddenly, the rain begins to pour. it always all ways asks for forgiveness. a ghost kneels in me, asks to be spared. --

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