as dandelion

my breath is fogging up the glass on the window in front of my face as i’m looking out at the rain especially concentrating
on the puddles and the way the water gushes down the pavement always finding the lowest
and most porous places to go.

carving a pumpkin, for the first time in a long time, (years? have i ever even carved
a pumpkin?) at s’s dining room table that is covered in a plastic tarp, i am enjoying how the knife peels away the pumpkin skin. everyone’s taking turns with the big knives and small knives and the slotted spoon that’s good for scooping out the guts, and we occasionally turn off the lights and stick flashlights inside them to test out how they will look, and when we all sit down to eat dinner, (enchiladas), s asks everyone (all of the pumpkin carvers) if we could go around and say something that was scary this past year, that we did
anyway.

k paints my face with whiskers and a feline nose behind our farmers market stand (because i am dressing up as dandelion) and i put a
homemade mane on my head that i cut out of fleece in the morning, and a
name tag that reads DAN which i place over my brown on brown on orange sweaters, also there are a few dandelion flowers i found in the morning which i pin in the button hole (october 31st and there are still dandelion flowers?)

i am laughing with k because suddenly my face becomes her art project and she turns very serious about the face painting, but then after she finishes i promptly forget i have paint on my nose and scratch an itch, (but it is okay).

then i walk around the market and go through the process of explaining, to (almost) everyone, that i am not just any kind of lion, I am…

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