jean cocteau (jean cocteau)Antiochus et Stratonice (détail), 1840, Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres (Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1840)

The lights are orange and the mountains are still purple and the strip malls still flicker bright white. The sky shows off in a garish way and Grandma is still confused.

There are red berries on the trees but my eyes are closed now because of the sun.

My dad’s bread is thick and they don’t have the things to put on toast in the house anymore because I’m not a kid.

The neighbor’s golden retriever died and now there’s a loud scraggle pup behind the gate.

The top of the Johnson’s pasture is just as beautiful as it ever was.

I can see the sea from up there. I don’t mind the brush and eucalyptus dust in my shoes and the tumble weed scraping my shin. I don’t mind because a native person never minded. I am a native person. I can eat the toast plain.

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