What must you think of me?
she’s burning to ask
at the risk of sounding insecure
if she said it without hesitation
eyes, milky with honesty
tone, dry like sandpaper tongues
vein, pumping blood sideways on her forehead
it would be enough if he said
I think of you
One day, last summer, I was riding the Long Island Railroad back to my Aunt’s house from a training day for an internship. I felt like I was going to bleed out through the blisters on my feet and my entire body was throbbing like I had run a marathon. So, I put in my earphones and watched a woman put on her makeup while riding the train.
As my summer nears a close in LA, I’ve become more aware of what that means in the next week. It’s Thursday. I leave on Tuesday to go home to Virginia. From Virginia, I’ll drive to New York City to move into my dorm. So, I’m trying to plan my last few days here. I’ve been so excited to get out of LA that I haven’t put much thought into what I’ll miss.
I once knew a guy who told me that the best pizza in all of New York was at Luigi’s on 54th street. He talked about it all the time. His family had been going there for generations. It was “the best.” I always said that maybe we should go and then when we finally had the chance to go, he said that he didn’t want to go with me. Because what if I didn’t like it? What if it wasn’t worth the hype?
Yesterday, I started reading Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar.” In it, I have nit-picked a phrase or two about how much the narrator dislikes Technicolor. She classifies it as flashy and trying too hard. I disagree.
Some people are just M&M’s
sugar and chocolate
exoskeleton that snaps between your teeth
yellow like a taxi
blue like a Gatorade
leave them in the sun and they melt like lovers
they come neatly wrapped in paper packaging
that you’re meant to open
perforated to perfection
tempting your redemption
it wasn’t happenstance
you were set up
“Still water runs deep.” That’s a cliche that my grandma uses when people surprise her. When I was younger, she would tell me that my mom was always her quiet child but that she got married and had children first. So, still water runs deep, meaning that people are humming and pulsing beneath their exterior.