Humanity I Love You

Walking to class, I realize that I have never seen anything in my life. I stop for a moment, the colors whirling around me, and feel slightly dizzy. As I'm looking down, panting, trying to catch my breath, I realize that the gravel has the most beautiful ripples on it, like ocean waves from an airplane window. When I look up, I feel even more woozy.

Sun on bricks, on my face, warming it like a hot blush. Yellow paint like snake skin shedding off of an old building. A vine crawling up the side of a Subway. The dappled shadows that trees cast on the ground, crackling and flittering like mice and amoebas across the lined cement street. A guy walking by me, holding a joint with dreadlocks in his hair and no shoes on his feet. One cloud. The sky, oh, the sky, just like that time mama gave you a whole pad of construction paper and a crayon named "Periwinkle Blue."

For a whole minute, I merely sway in the breeze. The wind smooths my face. Tiny pink flowers.

It is in moments like this that I am reminded of a poem by e.e. cummings singing to me quietly in a low voice, like little dreams, "humanity i love you."