Passages in books hid between other passages. Some, in yellow dresses, refused to play. It was one of those summer days that takes one's breath away and hides it in an applesauce jar. Sunshine and bacon grease obscured less popular sensations and were, in turn, obscured by songs about sunshine. No one sang about bacon grease. (No one remembers the applesauce.)

I was playing hide and seek with no one in particular, hiding in a car, in a cubicle, in a split-level ranch. I hid in your pocket.

You suggested using the garden hose to flush more memories out. We were naked in the backyard, still hiding in a sense. Pleasure obscured pain and then transitioned into a slightly muddy state of mind. We hid in the notion of being revealed. You suggested planting sunflowers.