star

Your hair danced in the wind

yesterday, and the trees

turned your eyes green.

You took

a photo of me, my skin 

flushed from the fire, my 

eyes closed on accident

and I took one

her magenta marker

the silent clock

my desk, now darker

with dust like chalk.

his name in my phone

my swimming mind

his teeth were like moonstone, 

mouth open that night.

today's air tastes like berries

and overused metaphors. the shadows run

across golden ground, and i look 

at our old stone wall like they would in farmers' days.

a boundary, a gate

inspired by "Roselily" by Alice Walker

Someone has painted smog across the sky

And made her hands soft–

No more sewing needles or thorny flowers

There is nothing like the floating feeling of trying to do pilates in socks and listening to Cigarettes After Sex as your knees scrape against the carpeted floor and the almost-black almost-night clings to the windows. 

"I have a feeling, a terrible fear encroaching

That I'll never love a boy

The way I love the ocean."

-Maya Hawke, "To Love a Boy"