The Smell of Papaya

Polka-dotted dress
hair cascading down your back
you wore those “flats”
and talked to me,
as if I knew what “flats” really were.

Living memories of joy
feels like flying in the clouds
I remember many things
and many smiles all around
Though the way is often rough–
more than I would care
I know that life continues on
but polka-dots still make me smile.

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