It can hear you,
I promise.
Malia turns down the path
and begins to sing “Time After Time.”
If you’re lost you can look
and you will find me …
I imagine the trees
bending their piney branches
to the sound of her voice.
Then she stops
in a beam of sunlight.
Without thinking,
I look at her, remembering what her mom said,
and she knows what I’m thinking.
My skin. My skin,
it’s too thin, they say.
Or my mom says
I might be allergic to sunlight.
My dad says it’s just bad eczema.
I can’t help but scrunch my eyes.
I’ve never heard of anyone being allergic to sunlight.
They are both doctors,
so they have lots of theories,
but mostly they argue about me.
No one really knows
why my skin does what it does.
Most people have rashes that itch.
I have itches that rash.
It’s actually feeling okay right now.
But sometimes, well …
and then she’s quiet.