written by: Genie Nakano
Running through wheat fields and skipping stones across the river are not my childhood memories. My turf is a concrete city project playground filled with chain linked fences and swings.–where I fall in love with the boy next door and beat up the boy down the block. Boy crazy is what my mom called me.
I steal my mother’s Maxfactor red lipstick in the first grade. When I’m ten—I’m fifteen and when I’m fifteen I’m twenty one. My imagination grows as big and wild as a jungle. A broomstick is my palomino pony and I can lasso Mars.
Urban living– it’s not so bad. At night when all the smog settles– the moon shines as bright as a silver bell.
to the moon
I am here
I was born in East L.A. Boyle Heights California many years ago. I am passionate about writing. It is my confession, therapy, meditation and my joy.
Latest posts by Genie Nakano (see all)
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- Nothingness - April 21, 2022