Fashion a Story

Help –

My name is ____

I’m

Tinkerbell?

No, I am gerbera daisy, a pink rose?

Surrounded by women in pantyhose,

green polka dots sprinkled on light pink…

Crap, it would seem I am

taunted by the gently-creaking swing set,

unwilling to live with the insistent witch-opera…

Apologies, I digress.

I met the Error of My Ways,

who laughed at me,

so I chose Anywhere,

leaving Nowhere behind,

carrying my body with me,

to the median on Broadway

across from the Flatiron building,

sipping a grande, iced, skinny vanilla latte.

There, I saw Robin who smiled at me, crookedly,

flitting away to perch in a Burch,

as a woman walked by me, muttering.

The woman was gone as I exhaled my breath,

forgetting that my eyes would disappear

before my toes followed suit

then my knees

my belly button

my –

fr

   ag

       ments.

I’m collecting parts

to fashion a story

that feels familiar.

Say, “Goodnight.”