It’s a ball of knotted string
Stuck under my ribcage.
Whenever I start to untangle it,
I break a sweat & forget
Why I even tried.
It’s thirst after a tall glass
Of water, aching, curling
Around my neck like a vise.
It’s the damp
Lingering in a spring day,
Eyes that could hold an ocean
But that never look into mine.
It’s wild, honeyed laughter that
I chase around the corner, only to find
There was
Nothing
There.
& walk around soho with maxi skirts & matcha & annotate the bell jar in velvet blue ink on curling pages with garamond font & wear my hair long down my back & dark sunglasses pulled up on my head & bangle bracelets that sli
I found this vignette in a notebook from summer 2024 and thought it was worth sharing. I have no memory of writing it, but I'm glad I did.
I never thought I'd wonder
how it would feel to touch your face
but now the thought sticks to my skin, tangles
in my hair. I never thought
your eyes would be anything but blue,
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