In Which the Poet Praises His One True Love, the Kitchen Elf

by Ruby Katigbak

Oh, her brown skin was Nutella-rich
Her hair was skim-milk white
And quick that smile, that could beguile
The stars down from the night.

Her lips were raspberry Jello red
And often did they part
To laugh and play, though none could sway
Her sweet graham cracker heart.

Her eyes were dark as Oreos
Lost deep in a sea of milk
Her necklace made, of skittles-braid
With strands of bright red silk.

Oh, microwaved marshmallow light
Were her steps as she danced
To spin and wheel the fairy's reel
On countertop she pranced.

Sweet bowls of cream I left for her
And plates of honeyed bread
She turned them sour, by her power
And mocked my love instead.

Long did I pine, for that sweet wine:
I asked a single kiss
But slipping free, she laughed at me
And lost was my one bliss.

And so I watched, but did not join
Her dance was hers alone
As out of reach, as the drop that leaks
From a waffle ice cream cone.

Ruby Katigbak published her first poem during second grade, in the elementary school newsletter. She has spent her ensuing years trying to replicate that first heady success. She has worked as a rent-collector, and as her prolific painter-mother's art coordinator. Her hobbies include sculpture, random photography, and taking long aimless walks in the woods. She is currently trying to beat a novel into submission.

Her favorite fruit is the banana, for providing her with a bland but filling breakfast on those mornings when she's late for something, and chewing is a luxury.

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