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The Bow— {fiction}
i traced the picture
with my fingers
brushing off the dust
three faces—
pervaded with mirth
smiles so wide
that it hurt my cheeks
the first boy had a locket
hung over his neck
his little arms crossing
over the other boy
the other boy wore
sunglasses
sun could not be seen
it was the rainy season
But they were too
little to care about that
the third face—of a girl
between the two
really little with puffed
pink cheeks and a bow
in her hair too huge
she was pinching the other two
she was naughty
I set it aside
and wiped my tear with
dusty hands
took out the last box
from in the closet
it had
the locket
the sunglasses
of the now dead brothers
and I wore
the bow
now not too huge
fitting me
like cinderella's shoe
~the universe in her
© z.f.
with my fingers
brushing off the dust
three faces—
pervaded with mirth
smiles so wide
that it hurt my cheeks
the first boy had a locket
hung over his neck
his little arms crossing
over the other boy
the other boy wore
sunglasses
sun could not be seen
it was the rainy season
But they were too
little to care about that
the third face—of a girl
between the two
really little with puffed
pink cheeks and a bow
in her hair too huge
she was pinching the other two
she was naughty
I set it aside
and wiped my tear with
dusty hands
took out the last box
from in the closet
it had
the locket
the sunglasses
of the now dead brothers
and I wore
the bow
now not too huge
fitting me
like cinderella's shoe
~the universe in her
© z.f.
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