Tag: love

the compliment catch-22

one night you tell me that I
look especially beautiful.
I find it hard
to accept this gracefully
because a tiny, stupid
part of me is already
thinking about all the nights
to come in which
you do not say that and
how that part will think
that I must look bad
– or at least,  not
as beautiful, which
to that part is the same thing –
or that you’ve fallen
out of love with me, and
even though the rest
of me understands logic
and how I can’t be
equally beautiful
every night and how just
because you don’t compliment
me every night it doesn’t mean
you no longer love me, still
that part begrudges
current Brookes her compliment
on behalf of all the future
bitter slighted Brookeses.

this is why she feels like
compliments are a trap:
better to avoid the whole
thing and disbelieve
than accept it now, only
to regret it later.

robins

why am I suddenly
remembering that time
last winter when
we went for a walk
around the reservoir
and I’m pretty sure
you ogled my butt
when I came downstairs
in leggings and a normal
length tshirt and
it was bitterly cold and
I complained nearly
the entire walk
except when we saw
all those robins hopping
and bopping in the dead
trees and grass next
to the path and
I stopped dead
in my tracks and exclaimed
“Robin Redbreast! look
how many of them! oh
they’re so plump and
cute! how I love them!”
just like a real
manic pixie dream girl
but I really could have
watched them all day
and then we stopped
at Starbucks on the way
back to my house
and you had a long
blonde or grey hair clinging
to you and I removed it and
it was your mother’s
and then I got an unsatisfying
sandwich and when I
got home I found
my period had started?

the selkie

you left remnants of your presence
today – your toothbrush; tiny hairs
in the shower, coiled like secrets.
seeing them makes me feel
like I’m packed full of curled
fiddlehead ferns that are waiting
to open into full growth.
I censor my own words, my poems,
my very thoughts, for fear
they might prove unwelcome
to you. everything is pretty
and sugary sweet on the surface,
but inside I feel myself slowly
dying to break free.

Continue reading the selkie

the pea

everyone thinks
that the princess
is a spoiled brat.
she’s such a wuss.

but she wasn’t lying
when she said
she could still feel the pea
under all those eider-down
mattresses. no matter
how hard she tried
to muffle the source
of her discomfort,
she couldn’t shut it
out.

imagine trying
to be intimate with a person
who has to have certain things
her way in order
to fully enjoy herself.

Continue reading the pea

your bracelet

you left a piece of yourself
at my house the night
before last. I’m wearing it
as I travel across
the city to see you.
I like the feeling of it
around my wrist;
surprisingly heavy,
a little chain to remind me
that I’m blissfully
yours. it bears a
Caduceus
which makes me think
of how we grow closer
together, entwined,
and stronger
because of it.

if my subway car crashed
right now, emergency medical
personnel would be very
confused. I wonder if
they would think
I was you, or would it be
obvious that this does not
belong to me.
except for how
it’s a part of you
so it does, just as
you belong
to me and I
belong to you.

today.

you made me breakfast
today. I stepped on your toe
today. we watched
a game show and I felt stupid
today. we had sex twice
today. I wondered if
the bloom was off the rose
because of me and my
tactless big mouth
today. how could anyone
who doesn’t hate himself
want me? I still don’t
understand it, but I love you
and I think, I hope
you still love me.
I hope it’s the first
of many days where
we work it out and enjoy
each other through
thick and thin
like we did
today.