Summers mean walking

every morning, listening to pink and orange

music as the drifting turns into waking.

I see dead birds along the sidewalks morning to morning and think of…

I think differently now, I acknowledge the birds and say my internal prayer

and thank them.

One morning I take an egg from the sidewalk

abandoned, rested on my desk for a week

only to explode while on the phone with a friend.

…………….The windows are down in the still-daylight summer evening and as I make my turns to downtown – teens walking alone/in pairs along the reaches of the sidewalk streets—I see the flashes of lightning in the blue in between rooftops like flashlights

…………….beneath the skin.

…………….With my windows down,

…………….without rain,

without a spiraled black seam ripped up in the fabric of now, but with lightning bugs poking out here and there classical music, violins in the back of my throat and piano keys tapping along the veins of my heart, ache from my speakers: it’s a soundtrack to real life and I can feel it.

…………….That’s the thing with realizations and epiphanies and breakthroughs: they come to you when you aren’t anticipating a damn thing. Mine came when I was watching a crime show, eating dinner. I realized what I am doing now would serve my younger self the justice, and most importantly, the consideration that she deserves because I am finally talking about my mistreatment and getting justice. Younger self was kept quiet, scared, unenthused, and felt unworthy of advocacy. Present self has the fire in the belly to make a stir and is strong. I am strong. An epitome of built-up strength because I needed my younger self to become my now self. And as I breathe and feel my body take up space my process oxygen perspires: I am strong. I am strong I am strong.

…………….And in that I am light. I am light. Lighter. Light air.

– Leslie Benigni

Note: This piece was first published in Coffin Bell Journal (Vol. 6, Issue No. 2).

Author’s Note: This piece is a hybrid memory creation of an actual event in the summer during grad school in which I found an egg on my morning walk, thinking it was an unfortunate dud and took it home. However, later that same day as I was calling up a friend that was hosting a summer camp in California, the egg exploded on the desk right next to me. I can only think from my carrying it, along with the buildup of gas inside, it simply combusted.