She wore a pair of danced-upon
navy girl’s shoes and she bounced her
bosom high when she laughed and drank
champagne through her teeth and always
a saint on Sundays and never
spilled food when she ate because she
ate her food so delicately.
She had a dog too and the dog
was tame enough to ride in her
purse and wear clothes that she bought for
it and take little scraps of beef
right from her fingers and knew what
to bite and not to bite and where
to pee and not so that she could
take it with her everywhere and
bounce it in her bosom and give
it kisses and we would watch her
and knew that when we grew up we
would bounce in bosoms like those ones
and eat our food right from fingers
and never bite what we shouldn’t
and never pee where we weren’t
allowed to pee. Not even when
We wanted to. No matter what.
