Sand and sea salt. Sunny on a Sunday. Seven, almost eight. It’s almost the summer.
Sharp limbs, pointing to tween possibilities. White Chicklets, collected, confident. Shining. Boy hands folded into men’s hands. Relaxed. Water beading, so cool. Berry brown betrays any SPF.
He is who he is and who he will be. I’m just standing on the sidelines, his personal paparazzi. The world, his red carpet. Cheering and loving and snapping pictures of my beautiful boy.