Girls in dresses color my tattoos with Crayola markers,
Fine-tuning linework with determination,
Shifting the edgy needle remnants into a coloring book permanently etched onto my body.
Grubby hands drag me forward,
Forcing my knees to hit the dirt as they admire ants who march diligently,
Unaware of their impact on the giants looming above,
Each who yearn to pick them up from Earth’s clutches.
Glitter magically finds its way from my bag,
Along with glue, gloss, gel, and grass,
Forever taunting my fanny pack,
Refusing to disappear.
Grins refuse to leave my face as I glance down at my rainbow tattoos,
Rub dirt off my palms,
And try to shake glitter out of my bags.