circle: the roundedness of a
marshmallow spent too long in your pocket,
meant for my mouth; the almost-perfect
eternity
of your fingernail as you traced my collarbone
remarking how winglike our shoulders were;
love: circle.
square: the machine-cut cube
of perfection and almonds in the form of delight,
Turkish delight, glittering like gelatin lip gloss; a
childish drawing of a house pinned to the fridge,
everyone was once foolish;
freedom: square.
This morning I woke up at six am. The country was bleeding pomegranate red and I, so sure we'd be drinking in a giddy paradise blue, stared blankly for minutes if not hours at the flashing computer screen.
sitting in bed close to 7 am waiting for the election tracker to light up.
sitting in bed close to 8 am doomscrolling through election websites knowing it's all futile now.
no matter what we pray,
no matter what we cry,
no matter what the news anchors deadpan
away,
no matter what the truth is,
no matter the color of the sky,
no matter the eleven years i've waited
Comments
The metaphorical language in this piece is so lovely! I'm here for your interpretation of the two shapes described in such a new, creative light.
Thank you so much!
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