Buttercups

Forest Dream 1Forest Dream 2Forest Dream 3Forest Dream 4Forest Dream 5Forest Dream 6Forest Dream 11Forest Dream 7Forest Dream 10Forest Dream 14Forest Dream 17Forest Dream 16Forest Dream 19Forest Dream 20Forest Dream 21

I’m dreaming of you again. In my dreams, I’m looking for the lamp, the one mother brought home when you were little. That day, we rubbed and rubbed it, and you plucked a golden buttercup from a field, placed it inside, and made a wish. You giggled as the blossom’s “blood” smeared onto your fingers. You dropped the lamp in this forest, the forest I wander nightly in my polka dot skirt, the skirt you said made me look like a princess. ”Princesses don’t wear polka dots,” I said, a week and two days before we buried you beneath a wreath of buttercups, my fingers smeared golden with blood.

Photos and narrative part of a collaborative project with Matt Bokan.
Model: Katie Bokan