Pink Ribbon in Space
I'm skipping on a road made of pink ribbon winding through outer space, in the body of this kid in a painting that hangs in my grandma's living room. I skip at a clumsy glide, wearing the smock-dress, purple in the painting but green in the dream. I am sometimes a boy version of her and sometimes just her. I have her thinnish, on-the-long-side-of-short green hair, though mine sometimes morphs into blonde. I have her skinny legs and expressively still face. I’m fragile but tenacious. I’m also Christopher Robin and the Little Prince.