She Laughs

She is the one who laughs in the rain. She is the one who changes. She is the one who screams with laughter at the biting bits of water stinging her skin. She is the one who can’t contain her joy when the clouds roll in and it smells like downpour. She is the one who hates having so much, and yet buys as much as her money allows. She is the one who remembers the moments spent drenched and giggling, the moments spent on bridges, biking, in clothes soaked through. Remembers only the inability to stop grinning, she is the one who feels crazy. She is the one who cares too much, and sometimes doesn’t care. She is the one who doesn’t hide from the thunder. She is the one who bikes home from the sand and water in a girl’s bikini top and a guy’s pair of swim shirts, barefoot, freckled, and maniacally smiling. She is the one reluctant to drift away. She is the one who hugs herself sometimes, and she is the one who hates herself sometimes. She is the one who doesn’t believe in shoes in the summertime. She is the one who loves, and is loved. And she is the one who laughs in the rain.