ZoeBee

When she was 7 years old
And still young enough to dance in the rain
Unabashedly
A pot of popcorn
Fresh off the stove
Fell
Oil as yellow as sunbeams and daffodils
Fizzled and popped against fresh-scrubbed skin

Before last summer
Fall evenings had routine
We would finish supper
Them clearing the table, while she talked and I served cake or pie or scones
Sit on the brown bear, just right, no goldilcoks in sight
Couch

I wish they hadn't switched around the chairs
It's a little request, I know
Not of conequence to anyone except the deep void of my mind
But I'm allowed to wish it
The first ones were an ugly pale tan-grey-peach color

I would want the garment to be long
Flowing and lavish
Red sashes, as deep and concentrated as a black hole
Draping sleeves, revealing dainty wrists dressed like a salad with rubies
And slathered in luxurious balms and creams

Don't ask how I know
But aliens do exist
Please don't wonder where I aquired my information
For I will never be able to tell you
Even if I wanted to
But extraterrestrial beings love Pillsbury biscuits right out of the oven

No one can know
Not one solitary soul
Whenever I'm in groups at school and we ask about crushes
Or homework
Or cheating
Or drinking
Or kissing
I giggle and withold
My secret is worse than anything they could say
I
Am