Untitled
By: Anonymous
you,, the metamorphoses of a definition
you
/yo͞o,yə/
1. you were the opening piano solo of billie holiday’s “all of me”
i wanted you to take my lips
(in fact, ((i can’t help but laugh)) somehow
in that skinny, limber, white body of yours
you were all of motown)
you were tentative hands between the velvet seats of row vv
and you left flowers on my swing
came to kiss me at 11pm
and still my heart was in japan
(i’m sorry)
2. you, i thought you were the birds in minnie ripperton’s “loving you”
((i truly thought i did))
you toyed with me across the playground, between the cherry blossoms,
i should have known you needed maturing-
spring does not bloom the same in california
wood chips were not made for fifteen-year-olds
naivety won’t keep us from getting hurt anymore
and so i splintered
(you were not sorry)
((it’s ok, i am not sorry))
3. and you
you were the grand canyon
stronger, than the frail blossom
visibly deeper
able to hold me, to an extent
but you
you were inside jokes left in crevices i have forgotten
you were spicy candy lips tied up in strings i pretended to love but never ate
i really wanted to like it
it was all just too gummy
(i’m sorry)
and you,
well,
this is for you