India - Berkeley - River

The earliest memories of wishing you were somewhere else

Pretend I was born in India. I’ll wind your worn sari around my shoulders and waist. I’ll take your bright pink lipstick and put a mark on my forehead. We’ll pretend that all the freckles are gone. I’ll bathe in lemon juice and they’ll disappear. My hair will be so black, glossy, and long I can sit on it, or wind it up on top of my head like Sita.

I know…