My mommy drinks coffee from a bright orange bag. Tres Santos from Colombia. This means three saints. I am not sure what a saint is. I think it is meaning something very beautiful and powerful. Like, true good. My three saints are the sky filled with tiny raindrops and rainbows– I have once seen a double rainbow in Malibu, the earth which is covered with damp trails and pebbles and moss in the canyons, and the ocean whom many refer to as a girl. The ocean brings about dreams, and pulls ideas from deep inside up into your brain so you can think about them. The ocean has very deep currents, and is filled with creatures so big your human mind cannot even imagine them. Like hump-backed whales. And eels that have no end. It is very scary, dark, but beautiful. I play in the shallow, warm waves where sun glitters so bright it’s blinding and changing like dappled flares of light. In my life there is a fourth saint. This is my horse, Winter. She is a Chestnut mare with a white snip. I lean against her in her stall, and she breathes on me, breath of oats and bran and carrots. All around me the smell of hay and California.
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