Dear Phoebe,

Take a curtsy.
Never a bow.
That's what you said little girls
should do.

So after our fifth grade performance, with you on the piano and me on the violin, you curtsied and I bowed.
How cute, people cooed.
How our mother's eyes twinkled
as they saw our lives joined
right at the hip.
In our joined hands they saw
a new dawn.
A new dawn that you were
already charmed by.

Something bloomed that night.
Something more than what they saw.

My knees, they ached to curtsy.

🐝

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🐝