The sunlight dotted the plain
and yet her voice was missed
throughout it all
Bonnie stared at the tennis shoes on her feet,
bright in color
yet dull in spirit
They were little reminders of the sacrifices
She didn't see the other girl,
quicker on her feet
nor did she see the wave
directed at her.
Bonnie watched the stickers light the page,
nine years old already
She'd told her parents just this year
that she wanted to move far away,
become exotic to others for once
Her mother had cried when she told her they can't
She never did ask then
about the girl that sat next to her in class,
all tall lithe frame and beautiful, long black hair
Bonnibel didn't even know her name.
She stared at the other girls
passing playful insults around
and giggly girly topics
She found her eyes reverted to her own frame
long, but plushy,
somewhat pale skin
though just pink enough to appear almost tan
She felt misformed from where
pale purple pink dusted her skin
and where strings lazily looped
She didn't see the girl that looked at her
as if she was more
than that silly fragment
nor did she realize that
she wasn't alone all this time.
She stares at a card, written by some hand that she doesn't recognize,
all red almost glitter
and cheesy love lines
that spelled optimism
Bonnie felt a tug in her heart,
a realization that the boy that had signed it
in dorky, not quite cursive
was not one that she'd fall for
She didn't see the black valentine
with pink words
hastily scribbled on
as it was put in her locker.
Bonnie stares at her shoes as her classmates talk
and feels more alone than ever,
everyone has a boyfriend
or at least everyone in her class
but her
She does see long, pale legs
before a body stretches out beside her
and hears the whisper of
"Do you want to be on my team?"
Bonnie doesn't know
when she learns
that some music is best heard
at 3am
or when she realizes
that pink looks best
next to black
She doesn't know when rock bands
begin to consist of a large portion of her attire
and forgets when Saturdays became a day for loud music
and huddled close bodies
from the fragility of the moment.
She does know that when she comes home,
supper's usually on the stove
and arms tend to loop around her waist,
pulling her close
in a tight embrace
and that the whispers that greeted her
in her ears mean more than perhaps the band shirts did
She feels warm
as she watches pale arms hold just slightly darker skin
closer.
Bonnie does not feel like a time exists anymore
where she didn't wear a ring on her finger
or see two dark heads when she pulls into the drive
or when she felt alone
She watches them
for a silent moment
apart from her wife
and sees the joy
that lights up all three faces
as if nothing could be brighter.
