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Through the dime store window I found you: the ring of orange and pink, a child’s oculus, the only antidote to boredom. Mom was at the salon. I walked up and down Main Street— past the sticker store, the sandwich shop, the steel bridge painted red. How I would will your orbit around my sun! Your path would be uneven and short. I would laugh. Your crooked circles would fall below my knees to my ankles and threaten my next step. I could bend down and pick you up. You could spin again. I was seven and looking for a good time. |