No. 12
by dharmaandgregfanficdotgeocity
and then we were us,
with ten fingers,
equal toes, two kidneys
and our souls,
so blessed and tan
from their sojourn
through eternity.
but you may not recognize "me,"
from underneath my burqa, my crinoline,
my mantilla,
my zoot suit or naval uniform.
my hair shorn-sheep-short,
or be it 10-foot-Marie-Antoinette-tall,
there, still, do I lie,
where once we passed, there again I will be,
and with hushed whispers will my lips part,
as they have for generations,
"how have you been? I missed you."