She is the tiniest little girl I have ever seen,
Arms resting like delicate ribbon
Unrolled carefully and placed in her lap
Veil of brown curls caressing her ears and neck.
She sits sweetly by the smeared glass wall
Swinging her legs back and forth
Jeans tucked under, bulky at the ankles,
Pink sneakers strapped on.
She sings about Lucy in the sky.
I glance over at her mother, busied
At the folding table
Her neat stacks gathering
In baskets by her feet.
The little girl does not notice me until
My shadow passes over the
Speckled floor and climbs her legs
To rest in her lap. She looks up, her freckled nose
Lifting with her smile.
I feel enormous as I sit next to her
Letting my leg spill over into her chair.
She scoots away.
I ask her, doesn’t she like me?
Want to be my friend?
A washer shakes loudly.
I lift a thick hand, pinch her tiny
Nipple between my fingers,
A shudder rises in my spine.
She wraps her arms around her middle, folding up,
A sweet lily sinking under.






 
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