it’s not like you and i ever really went together, we sort of just orbited
around one another. it’s kind of like you were Saturn, and i was one of your many moons, just wanting to be near you.
i once went on a date to a poetry slam with a guy who liked to hold my hand
in public, at the show, walking down the street.
he told me that i am really pretty.
i flinched every time.
he wasn’t you, we never so much as looked at each other for too long
i think it’s because if we did we would start a fire and then everyone
in the bar would know. a hug was, and still probably is, out of the question
when we touch one another we create constellations and shooting stars.
i didn’t tell him i can’t be pretty because the only time i feel it is when you are in
bed with me, tracing my hips with your fingertips. i just told him to be quiet,
he kept telling me anyway.
he could probably still taste your name on my tongue. if he did, he ignored it.
i didn’t. it was all i could think of. he kissed my neck and i felt nothing but empty.
i think of you every time this kind 23 year old touches me,
it is the only way i don’t shudder.
i didn’t ask for this.
i gave you everything of me and you gave me back a smile.
i didn’t know that loving a man who will never be truly yours is the best
suicide, you can’t be anything but partially broken.
i didn’t know that moving on feels like drowning when you can’t give in
to something new.
i once went on a date to a poetry slam with a guy who was too kind
to the paper doll of a girl that i am.
afterwards,
i texted you about the feature i had seen.
i felt more spark seeing your name on my phone than with the boy kissing me good-night.
afterwards,
i wrote this poem while i should’ve been thinking about him
but i wasn’t . it’s you.
it is always you.
and isn’t this how you always wanted me?
lights off, legs up, lips open.
my body intertwined with your boundaries
i do not kiss you when i leave. we both know
i’ll be back when there are constellations in your irises,
when you taste of coke and rum,
when i will try to twist myself into someone
you could want. and you will still not care.