jam and bread

Sunday, January 2, 2011

The sun rose quickly today, painting the horizon with a layer of strawberry foam, like what forms on the top of homemade jam, and layered like that, the deepest red next to the horizon, the lightest pink toward the sky. The sweetness didn't last long, as soon as the sun itself was over the horizon it was sharp and metallic, a knife cutting through the morning, silver white and intense, almost threatening. And I still feel soft and sleepy, so I guess that makes me the bread, because the heat of it is what made me get reluctantly out of bed. I'm going to have to remember to either close the blinds, or sleep facing the other way.