Strawberry Morning

By ANNIKA SHEAFF

I know the taste of early mornings, like strawberries … so bitter to open your eyes and absorb the sunlight, but so sweet to wake up at all. I don't know about the scent of cedars but I know maple shapes and their dried crunching. I don't know what people think when I speak. I know the prick of a needle makes me bleed. I know sadness. Your mouth provides me with the subtitles for your thoughts, you are a foreign film I will never fully understand. I can almost read you like Braille, touching you feels like sperm hitting oxygen. I don't know blonde, or wearing silver like flesh. I know sexy men, but not how to make them see past their own watches. I know how to give up.

I know there is still time. I don't know if I will watch her sleep to the sounds of creaking floor boards. I know I will see all her perfect toes under the water in the tub.

Students interested in submitting works for this column should contact Ron Price in the Liberal Arts Department at ext. 368, or by e-mail (ronprice@juilliard.edu).

Annika Sheaff is a fourth-year dance student.