Image for post
Image for post
Artwork by Elena Garnu

Did you see her?

The She
who carried the face
looking very similar to this one
before he knew we were over.

A rolled back version of me
no longer printable
beneath the mask
to be placed

when the date
had passed us by
in one too many
stealthy spring mornings.

If you heard
sullen whisperings on red nights
about where I buried her,
do not pay heed.

I like her better
when she’s tangled, and she
confided to me long ago,
her pinprick voice
scratching the Dogwoods

that she’ll only bloom
when she’s good and ready,
and that if I wanted so badly
to see dawn I best stop
counting stars.

I kissed her mouth then, stuffing her
full and deep
of my grape-leaves

out the pulp
of our stories

back and forth
until becoming lost in her seesaw eyes,
mirrors where I almost believed
her lies.

Coming to, I sewed her
mouth back into her mossy tent,
planting an acorn in her forehead
before the last stitch sent her back.

There was no sense telling her
she wasn’t full grown,
but her nubs had potential.

Let summer decide.

Written by

Holes and a series of rabbits — my debut poetry collection — now available!

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store