When I look into the black eyes
of my grandson James
I regret what I did to Solomon Levine
When I was a young girl
Solomon was a short boy
about my age
seven or eight if I recall correctly
(Sometimes I wonder when my daughter tells me I stood her up for ice cream
on
Sunday when I didn't even know about it and I say I'm sorry but for what?)
and he told me he was my boy friend
(I know my father's name is Jacob but he moved away when I was two and all
I
love of  him are his dark eyes)
Rose I have bought you a pink Spalding
and I thought we could play together
and then we could go to the store and I could buy you candy
if you want I like chocolate ice cream and I will share mine with you
Solomon said
I ran away and I played with my porcelain doll Dorothy
(Now dolls are plastic and their eyes roll back like tired ghosts.)
The next day I gave Solomon a picture I drew with my crayons
(I only had Dorothy and one carton of crayons and one roller skate and now
the
Spalding which I came to love like licorice.)
In the picture Solomon lay dead on the ground
with ice cream in his hand
and this note written in black crayon
"If you ever come near my daughter ever again
this is what will happen to you. I hope you grow
old and fat and forgetful.
	From,
		Rose's Mom"
(James, I'm sorry. I want to see your bones grow and your voice sink and
your hair
thin, but my limbs ache and my mind
wanders and I feel my time coming and when I look at you I see a mean girl
with
dark braids and it hurts too much.)