Description: Yoshi K. Araki had only one great love during his lifetime. Her name was Margie Morri, and though she was one of the most beautiful creatures in Gila River, it was her eating rituals he fell in love with and memorized fluently as the Scout Promise.
Guidelines
The age you yank the hair ties off my pigtails. I slap you, and you stand there, fists curled, screaming that your mom said never to hit a girl. At lunch, I relent, offer you a bite of my chocolate cake, and ask why you have nine fingers. Also, the age I understand the pinky finger of your left hand is fused to your ring finger.
The age you ask me to prom and I go buoyant, like the hot air balloons we watch from your backyard. The pin hidden in my satin-ribboned corsage of baby pink roses pierces your fused finger, and I stanch the blood with a napkin. When I ask if doctors recommend surgery to separate the fingers―it would be impossible to wear a ring when you get married―you burrow the hand inside your pocket. Also, the age we split up. You tell me our colleges are separated by 999 miles and we should date other people