once upon a time

there was a young girl

and she didn't feel like sleeping on a mattress on a frame two and a half feet off the ground

so she made a pallett on the floor with all of her blankets and quilts

and she scootched the cd player and speakers triangularly around her head

put on the "purple dots" cd

(she could never figure out that title, it was one of the things she loved most)

and she listened to it the whole way through

because you made it for her

and she loved you.

a few years later, she would look back on the significance of this evening.

maybe there was none,

but for some reason, it seemed deeply embedded into who she was.

many memories involving you seem to be that way.