the girl who plays ukulele

you watched me cry,
seeds running in narrow
rivulets down my cheeks. 
we are swollen
like bright pearls scraping along the edge of a  
                  shell;
we are beautiful. 
my little wooden heart 
molds with wet, 
and when you take a step—
it creaks.
my tiny mind, you say, 
my tiny mind is filled with the world,
so be good, do good, you say,
and please, little mind, be dutiful. 
i almost forgot
                                                    (but then i didn’t)
to say goodnight to 
the wilting peonies outside my window. 
she is the girl who plays ukulele,
dancing in empty halls
and wearing dresses of yellow. 
we dance out in the rain
                           (as we laugh and cry and die)
because we are only human.