Little Miss Perfect
Aaron Caycedo-Kimura


I drag my brush across blank canvas,
drip streams of thinned black paint.

I think of water, piano keys,
Jeux d'eau, the Ravel

that flowed from your fingers.
Concert pianist, four-point-o,

you broke my heart,
said my character was flawed.

Maybe it is, because today
I laugh, recall the time you laughed

so hard I could see
all your amalgam-filled molars,

like the keyboard
you so expertly played.

About the author:
Aaron Caycedo-Kimura is a poet and visual artist with a Master of Music from The Juilliard School in New York. His poetry appears or is forthcoming in Off the Coast, San Pedro River Review, Crack the Spine Literary Magazine, Connecticut River Review, Rust + Moth, Freshwater, and elsewhere.