She stretched in the failing light,
bathed carefully,
precisely,
rubbing the same length of leg
over and over.
Standing, she moved away
from the window’s remains
of the day
and tried to curl up close.
I paid no mind, distracted, pushed
her gently away.
Offended she took her vengeance,
yanked her favorite Barbie,
the one with the denim shorts,
by her long blonde hair,
from the pink convertible
and proceeded to chew on her head.
About the AuthorDanna was born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada. She considers herself first and foremost an artist who just accidentally became a businesswoman.
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