renovation

so many layers, how do we ever find the original? or does it even matter? you've been changed by every single moment. even the boring, hum-drum moments waiting in the car for your parent who is on the curb talking seemingly forever with the chorus teacher from school. even the time you stopped your bike and watched that dusty yellow hawk float just over the park. also the time you took the long way home from the school carnival and your parents thought you'd been snatched. the way your father's anger and your mother's tears combined to tell you everything about loss. also the way you invited the chivalrous boy home for lunch hoping your heart would change. and, of course, the moments you watched your own body become two. if these layers could be peeled back, exposing flecks of history, where would you pause to marvel at how different you once were?