Siesta

*(reworked)*

It hurts to think of you.

Thinking brings salty tears
tracing paths down my cheek
and a million insecurities take over.

I never meant to feel this way.

I remember licking ice-creams in the piazza,
our dungarees dirty with thick dry mud.
My skin looked coffee-dark against your pale white hand.

I flirted with the gelataria man, a decade older
than me and you His sideways smile made us blush.
You laughed until you saw how much bigger my gelato was
and then you sighed in jealousy.

So we swapped.

We lay on hot white tiles by the blue swimming pool,
neon swimming costumes wet against our flat chests.
In voices that smelt of bubblegum and grapes
we spoke of eyeshadow, daydreams, teddies, heaven.

We got our diary keys and cut our thumbs
with the pointy edge in the darkness of the siesta.
The whites of your eyes shone.

In the flickering flame
of a candle stolen from a church hall
(Forgive me, Padre)
We pressed our thumbs together
and vowed to be friends forever.

We don’t talk any more.

I wish I was still in dungarees
with dirty knees
and freckles dotted on a brown face
swapping ice-creams and secrets and blood.

Now,

Life is more black storm then yellow sunshine.

Now,

I can’t find the scar on my thumb.

it hurts to think

thinking brings salty crystal drips
tracing paths down my cheek
and a million insecurities take over

i never meant to feel this way

i remember
licking ice-creams in the piazza
our dungarees dirty with mud
my skin looked black against your pale white hand

i flirted, age 8, with the ice cream man, age 18
you laughed
until you saw the way my ice cream was bigger then yours,
then you sighed in jealousy

so we swapped

we lay on hot tiles by the blue swimming pool
birght swimming costumes wet against our flat chests
in voices that smelt of bubblegum and grapes
we spoke of eyeshadow and daydreams and teddies and heaven

we got our diary keys and cut our thumbs
with the pointy edge
in the darkness of the siesta

and in the flickering flame of a candle
stolen from a church hall
(forgive me, padre)
we pressed our thumbs together
and vowed to be friends forever

we don’t talk any more

i wish i was still in dungarees
with dirty knees
and freckles dotted on a brown face
swapping ice-creams and secrets and blood

now,

life is more storm then sunshine

and now,

i can’t find the scar on my thumb

I must admit, I enjoyed the older version better. For one thing, it was more direct, and it held few unneeded words. Here, experience calls you to rephrase things and redirect them. For example, here:

I flirted with the gelataria man, a decade older
than me and you His sideways smile made us blush.
You laughed until you saw how much bigger my gelato was
and then you sighed in jealousy.

This is awkward, more drawn out. Though I do enjoy how you swapped "gelato" for "ice cream". There's definitely a lot more culture there.

At the end, I think it's best without the extra "and" in the original version. It holds the simplistic feeling.

we lay on hot tiles by the blue swimming pool
birght swimming costumes wet against our flat chests
in voices that smelt of bubblegum and grapes
we spoke of eyeshadow and daydreams and teddies and heaven

Rephrasing this stanza helped, too, but I still think that it could be placed in a better chronological order.

All in all, I'm glad you attempt still to fix this old poem. It's a favorite of mine, and I wish you all the luck to perfect it. Just know that perfection usually reaps few rewards.

Hello!
I enjoyed reading your poem.

Chanson wrote:
It hurts to think of you.

I never meant to feel this way.

These italicized lines can stand together or thrown separately into the poem, which I enjoyed, but the other italicized lines did not seem to flow quite as well together.

Chanson wrote:with the pointy edge in the darkness of the siesta.

Siesta refers to a naptime, and I'm not sure that really works with the rest of the poem.


Keep up the great work!

McMourning