where I'm from

Dress-up in hand-me-downs
pink lipstick on and around
mouth, cheek pressed
splish splash, glass and water
are related just as I am to mermaids and princesses
the heroines of our time
Bones fragile,
fingers dirty or
in the process, but not related
to spiritual cleanliness, religion
the opiate of our time
And merry, marry
Mary had a little lamb
whose fleece is blond and eyes
are blue, but not as blue as
mine, for what's mine is mine
not yours or ours and no, I will not
share or show and tell or tattle tale
I'll braid and dance and pretend
we're friends as long as you let me
be the Pink Ranger,
stranger danger
the legs I've wrapped my arms around
aren't mom's, at least not my mom's
but maybe someone else's, in some
other time in another world, in another
book about planets,
stars and moons
with the help of dad I'll pick and choose
words to tell the story about the cat
who, while the cow jumped,
ran away with the spoon.