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| Illustration: Mixed Emotions |
The thing that I loved about you most,
Is the way your eyes looked.
I enjoyed the look of
wonderment they held.
I remember staring at you
For so long.
For too long.
[insert awkward pause here]
Your eyes were
Intense.
Silent.
Beautiful.
Like the way mine
danced up your skin
And wandered
down your neck,
along Veins and ink lines
And the sunkissed Tan of your frame.
Even Medusa
could be defeated.
Ask Perseus.
And I ate it all up.
Cause I liked your eyes.
You’d be surprised
Of where they can bring you.
You might forget who you are.
But only for a short amount of time.
And your eyes.
I can’t forget your eyes.
Ingrained in my mind
Like engravings on chocolate.
Like the twists in twine.
Like stripes in plaid.
Every word I said
Every time the sound waves
hit your ear drums.
I watched you watch me.
I felt
Amplified.
Jolted.
Electrified.
I couldn’t make you stay though.
Being caught between
The left path
And the right path.
The right path,
Being, well,
The right path.
And the left known
to drop you off
Somewhere.
In the middle of no where.
“But creepy stuff happens in the middle of Nowhere.”
I couldn’t laugh like that again.
Not even if I tried.
I couldn’t have laughed harder.
Watching as you passed,
No longer looking at me,
But looking past me.
Without a word.
Your body language screamed -
“Machismo!
Mucho Gusto!”
And I laughed at you.
I buckled at the force of my own laughter.
Like that last bit of a comedy skit.
I watched you flare
as we walked apart.
Like calm down a little.
Like put your hair up in a ponytail.
Like do you hear the rain on your windowpane?
Did you move backwards?
Were things too hard for you?
To comprehend?
To pretend?
To put your hands to your forehead
In between
To skim between
To read between the lines?
Linear tattoos
Like connotations
Like algorithms
Like constellations that cross the red beneath your toes.
It’s the universe that flows within you.
Around you.
But I’m tripping right?
Like you didn’t feel it too?
And so you did it.
Tied your hair up.
Changed your skin tone.
Got a new area code
And kept on pumping.
Moving your
Hands
Your footsteps
Speeding up,
So you wouldn’t catch moss.
And so you rolled.
Smashed yourself between
counter and rolling pin.
Kneading the past,
Folding it over,
Flattening it out.
Letting yourself rise.
Staring back at the
cookie cutter mold
You’ve been pressed out of.
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