you've felt
the brambles and sweat,
the curl of berry-stained lips.
you've seen
the cornflower sky stolen
by a red-orange river,
the evening still thick
with lightning bugs and laughter.
you've held
up your hair against the heat
and turned on a fan,
while i stand here, in the grey,
skin pale and prickled.
you know
what i don't: that soon,
the sun will slide across the table
and glint off the silverware
at just the right moment,
turning me blind.
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
Today I thought I looked pretty
It must have been a trick of the light
I can't fall asleep in this city
I wish that you'd come stay the night.
Last week I talked to you for hours
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