my chin is sore
the bruise is gone
but the spot is tender

gave my hand a sister coy
to Cotton Alley where
you did enjoy
your wicked games
you curious boy

tied my laces up together
when I fell
you laughed
until your belly was sore

in the brick laid aisle behind
the five and dime store

that's how
I made you blush
but doubt if you
remember

were my tears genuine
or those of a skilled
pretender

nothing precious
plain to see
don't make a fuss over me
not loud
not soft
but somewhere in between
say sorry
let it be
the word you mean

I was a little pest who
never took a hint
could never
take a hint

you pinched my fingers
in a door
tossed my coloring book in a
rusty barrel

pulled spiders from my hair
fingers in the door

my favorite blue blouse
stained on the back
running from a berry war

can you hear me scream
in Cotton Alley
scream in Cotton Alley
in Cotton Alley