M. Hank

Who is that girl?

The one who’s headed to boarding school in the fall

With the green eyes

And big smile

Who is that girl?

Who reads books like she’s starving and the words are big, juicy cheeseburgers

It’s being told about stars

You can’t see

Yet

And having a book taken away

Before you can finish

And then having the middle spoiled

But not the end.

It’s smiling into the sunshine

at the bottom of my bag is a book, 

lying there like a security blanket I'm afraid to touch. 

my seat feels cold as ice as I sit down in the room where not one pen or pencil is seen in sight, 

There is a sort of gentleness; a sort of beauty in the empty bottle of wine sitting on my dresser amongst more innocent things

I'll remember the dew drops.

The ones on the grass after

a particularly humid night.

I'll remember the golden sunlight

seeping into our kitchen window

in the morning.

It would catch the side of our faces,

america is a kindergartner with her hair in pigtails. her

eyes are bright blue & curious. she wants to know the answers

to everything and she can't understand why

no one will tell her.