number 3.
2003-01-26, 11:40 p.m.
i used to joke with her...
tell her that her hair would come back fiery red...
her papa's hair, the red of a not-quite ripened tomato...
her's... a flourescent white...
before it all came out in massive clumps in the shower...
(i can still remember her screams)
her standing, shaking, naked, dripping wet...
standing in a pool of sunbleached-seaweed hair...
they turned off her vent today...
to see if she could breathe on her own...
(she couldn't)
and they have to pack up and go back home now...
to see if they can live surrounded by the pinks and purples
of little girl things...
(they can't)
and i find myself... saying goodbye again...
mumbling "i love you sweetpea"...
slipping my phone number in her little fleece pajama pocket...
telling her to call me if she gets too scared...
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