maelynslavik

I — 

I could. 

I could, love. 

I could love you. 

I could love you if… 

I — 

I wanted. 

I wanted to. 

I wanted to, love. 

When my teachers want to celebrate diversity they try to get us to write 'I am' and 'Where I'm From' poems. This is not something I oppose, but something is lost in the prompting. For them I write the easy apple cider explanations. For you?

we sat and imagined fireflies

flitting between the tops of the RVs

as the sun disappeared into muggy,

illicit sludge. we realized we both liked

 the sticky-sweet taste of summer

summer's like  /  skips on a record player, pink and beat up by two moving vans and two generations of children who danced to the Bee Gees on  /  rugs that aren't there anymore  /  i have successfully wasted three mon