Little Flea

She appeared within a whisper, her heart beats only once every spring.

These are the words he once told me. Only I acted out a scene of a play in my mind when I would watch snowflakes flounce their way in front of the house outside.

Such memories yet, the only thing I could recall, is that little ballerina standing tall.

Where can I dance like her sir? Laughing through wine-stained teeth, he replies, “There are no talents for your kind, little flea.”

I breathe only a single breath, closing my eyes, I am free.