when we first made
our fateful connection
she smiled, told us
we would undulate with her walk
that she had to have us
that we had the happy necessity
of an artist’s junk drawer—
splashing greens,
reds, purples, silvers, blues
into the world.
and we believed her.
we jangle as she talks
two long jumbles
of color, peek-a-booing
through her hair until
she gives in and pulls it back
and we are free
to catch the eyes of the bored
who populate her day.
and when we are alone,
sometimes she shakes her head
just to hear us
whisper laughter.
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