ukulele

36 3 0
                                    

her favorite song was one about papayas, and she would have a big, shining grin and a jumpy, striking voice when she sang a song about papayas.

she had long legs, and sometimes she'd stand during that song, and she would tap her feet and step around, sometimes in circles and sometimes in squares. sometimes she just stepped because it felt right.

she held her ukulele sometimes when she sang that song, and that was her favorite version of that song about papayas. when she sang with the ukulele, and the entire room just felt a little hawaiin and a little tropical and airy.

when she sang with the ukulele, she felt leis around her neck and flowers pinned in her frizzy hair. she felt the lingering taste of a piña colada on her glossed lips, and smiled so bright the entire room was entranced.

and she sang the song about papayas, and she danced and plucked her ukulele, and everyone gathered and danced around her. and the stamping of feet was the rumble of a faraway volcano and the crashing of heat from all those dancing bodies was the sun beating down on them.

so she sang that song about papayas and played her ukulele for the whole world to hear and she danced and smiled and laughed.

and then once after a particularly good performance where everyone gathered around and danced, and tossed all their dinner jackets and high heels away, she left her ukulele on the dance floor and promptly left.

and she dreamed that a man found that ukulele and remembered her song about papayas and how she sang it so well with the ukulele and the dancing and stepping of her feet. she dreamed he was one of the ones who got up and danced around her to that song.

and she dreamed that he would love her singing and would not touch her in the wrong way. and he would not understand any reason to leave her.

and she dreamed that one day a man would return her ukulele so she would no longer have to sing her song of papayas acapella.

and she dreamed that one day a man would return her broken heart so she would no longer have to sing a song about papayas and could sing a love song instead.

Poems - because words can be beautifulWhere stories live. Discover now