The part who made a bar for the bees out of fallen purple petunias and dirt in the hot summers. The part who collected love bugs in a plastic bag to keep on the side of his bed, so frantic for love that he was unaware he was suffocating them. The part who watched the burglar crawling through the sunroom, with no language to describe what he was seeing. The part who used cut out paper dolls to play pretend, making outfits for different seasons from construction paper. The part who pranced down the stairs in a rented wedding dress. The part who hid in the bathroom with the neighbors boy who moved only shortly after. The part who shared his dream of creating a diamond sequenced gown. The part who prayed for the ability to speak to animals, comprising with becoming one if God determined that to be easier. The part who lingered at the lamp post on the roundabout a minute too long. The part who asked strangers to walk their dog in hopes that someone would mistake him as the owner. The part who watched his father cry for the first time through the glass door. The part who was changed by the wrist full of bracelets. The part who judged his classmate’s father for the cigarette in his left as he steered with the right. The part who begged for a dollar to be able to afford the mug for my mother. The part who cradled the cat as it wandered to my lap at dawn, knowing I would not be able to take it home. The part who watched as the boy and girl snuck into the slide, the girl from the top and the boy from the bottom to avoid any suspicion of the teacher. The part who held his breathe as he crossed the intersection to his home. The part who handed out the candy since if he could not wear a costume, at least he could make a night of another. The part who went home with two goldfish that night, one won by effort and one forfeited to by shame. The part who raced to be the first in line so I could raise my hand to be excused to the bathroom and wander the halls alone. The part who looked through the anatomy book to stare at page 112 once more. The part who stole mints and rushed to eat them in between the clothes of the clothing rack. The part who trusted the fall and found himself looking up at the branches.