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Sunbathing on the small steps of the boarding school chapel by the swing set

Feeling the sun on my back; super warm on a December afternoon, a small comfort before the freezing winter evenings on that hillside property 

The memory, even while in it, felt almost like a previous lifetime

Some vague yet unputdownable and unmistakable instinct that I was there before

Not exactly there

Instead, I remember a too bright kitchen in a house with a large island in the middle

A proper country cottage 

With a very Taurus woman vibe: a lush green garden from the window

It almost feels like sacrilage to share in writing

Like a secret revealed

I hope it's not actually my future and I've not accidentally jinxed it by writing it down

The powers of manifestation weakened by bringing the elephantic strength of a gut feeling to the weakness of micelike scrawling

I remember writing little secrets like crush names in tiny, super tiny handwriting as an eleven year old

Barely visible little designs on the last page of a ruled school notebook

I'm the same Taurus woman with dreams of large kitchens overlooking a lush, love-made green garden

My contribution to the world: warm carb heavy buttery meals served to a family of two

Served with fresh lemonade hand-squeezed from two freshly picked lemons