ten when i was ten years old, i fell in love with a girl named michelle michelle of the blue hair and the blonde eyes michelle of the scandinavian looks that hitler would have killed for and did and a mole on her cheek like marilyn monroe she smoked cigars in astoria and played war in the schoolyard she had legs that were long and brown no one can say for sure throw the chairs, the melting ice rain from hell hold my hand like a kitten, michelle crush it between your smile you told me never look up i was stuck like the pencil in the ceiling above our heads you were alive and i was ten i won an art contest in fourth grade i drew a picture of the three wise men pointing at the star of bethlehem i was suddenly famous my best friend was michelle for the first time those eyes cold as money fixed with death that only love can bring i wanted to look away but could not she sat next to me and asked me for a kiss i put a squirt-gun to my head she moved away and i knew i was dead