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.
you're not
leaving yet. no,
i'll glue your limbs to the pavement,
lower your waving hand,
tell you
something to make your eyes crinkle
again.
again,
again,
again.
I have been told
To put curl cream in my hair
Upside down, eyes
Straining against the ceiling light,
Curls straining toward the tile floor,
Bunching.
I will smell
I'm wearing the same dress I wore last year, on an evening that felt like moonlight even though the sky was still a milky purple-blue by the time we left, arms linked, laughter spilling over each other and turning the air fragrant, because back th
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