Knock Knock
Nicolle Elizabeth

I was a dancer in the ballet before they threw me in the circus. Dance, puppy, dance, they said to me. I tap tap tapped my little heart right out onto your doorstep but you were halfway across the world and had pinned a note on the door, back at five in five years, went to find her. I tried the hoolahooping and the elephant riding but it was really the tightrope walking that got me. My center of balance is excellent due to an exercise involving one ice skate on a typewriter letter R key. I started kissing the ringmaster's wife and he didn't like that very much, mostly because I ended up on the tightrope wearing some of her makeup and our budget had nothing to do with costume overlap. If the investors had seen me in her rouge, I think we all would have gotten the whip meant for the tigers. The caged caravan trolley was nice, I didn't need to pay for gas. I missed the fruit soup they gave me in the ballet, and I certainly missed the roses. I looked up at the moonflowers on the fence but they were nothing like the Brooklyn roof swing, not that there's anything wrong with that, they were just different. By the time I got back to the ballet, they had changed the sign on the door and the woman in my dressing room said, "You were expecting somebody else?"

Nicolle is pleased to be a part of Wigleaf. Thrilled, baby, thrilled.

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Photo on page main page courtesy of Dhammza.

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