Blue Gatorade

As I drink my blue Gatorade

I taste the memories

I taste your smile

Your spaghetti sauce bubbling on the stove

Your laugh

Your pink lipstick.

 

As I drink my blue Gatorade

I’m eight again

Hunched over at your kitchen table

Scribbling pictures on your scrap paper

As I drink your blue Gatorade.

 

As I drink your blue Gatorade

You squeeze my shoulders and offer me more.

I share with my sister

Until the very last sip.

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