The Girl and the Shrimp

Aya Takano, “Thinking” 1999

There was once a small girl, 

who lived inside a blue shrimp.

It was not warm enough,

Yet it kept her safe

The body curled,

So she curled with it.

The body stank,

So she stank with it.

When the shrimp cried,

She cried with it.

And when the shrimp laughed,

She laughed with it.

Its black eyes watched her

So she watched right back.

She hugged the shrimp tight,

Her arms straining 

To keep it from falling apart. 

She stayed;

Even when her arms burned,

Even when its shell cut,

Even when its wet skin pruned,

Even when a fisherman caught,

Even when a young man bought,

Even when it was dropped 

into a pot of boiling water.

The girl still did not let go

The shrimp died,

So she died with it.