peanut butterJungle gym hair with eyeslike post-it notes.Her smile was like a shark’sbiting into a jar of peanut butter.Her fingers were rat tailsplaying Beethoven’sSymphony No. 9.Her voice was stolen cheese carvedfrom a pumpkin knife. Thoughtsand feelings left alone but neverfelt forgotten.The broken branch on my telegraphpole. The lace one foot too shortand color one gallon too strong.Feet like incognizant mist with tearsswimming anteaters. She toremy heart to thousands and sewed itin three.