public delights

vi. you laugh and my ribcage tumbles down

this is the only kind of heaven i can tolerate

the bees are blooming

we are deserving

there is a hole in your shoes

and mine are untied again

let's stand too close

so that i forget how to breathe and you

whisper as your arm goes around my shoulders

look at me

the grass splits open and swallows us whole

we never did belong in this big and dirty place

-

vi. this lingering sweetness of the afternoon

it sticks to our cloth bags of heavy futures

i can feel your laugh down to the crooks of my neck

skipping an irresponsible path

you dance to a bad pop song with too much swearing

as they all are like nowadays

side by side

sweat on our hands and wind chasing our shoulders

this is the shy liberty we do not know how to have

only that we have it

together

-

vii. we have sweaty bodies and decaying minds

we shuffle between lockers stuffed full of dreams we won’t ever chase 

and smiles we won’t ever keep

you push through and i am too scared to suppose

because after all

we do not get to keep those we meet this young

but you are special and silver and warm

swaying on asphalt

and for the thousandth time 

i wish you are more then only a teenage style of

sadly just out of reach 

-

viii. you gave my ponytail a small tug

laughing, living, all young and believing

you say you can't help yourself

all these gentle spaces in time

sprinting until they are out of breath

we can't catch up

we can't chase things we will never keep

i smell my youth on your skin

and these todays i hate

maddening, bursting, still scratching at higher places

i want to scream 

but you brush my hair back and ask me

if i was alright 

and strangely what gave out and jumped onto the desk 

was 'i'm fine'

-

ix. kiss my forehead and walk away

we are changing in the bathrooms

fussing over cheap mirrors

the air conditioning freezes our noses 

straight into your grey striped long sleeves

i sit here and the copper light is unforgiving

i can not go to sleep 

when i can still write about you

and the drafts of a very long story

where you don't wave at me

and i don't say hello to you

-

x. maybe we are made to ferment like fine wine

of pretentious cupboards even though

all we drank

were flimsy palm bays

we are two worlds out of synch and so far apart

even if our ninth grade science teacher 

used to teach us about calculating light years

i was never good at memorising equations

we did not age well, my friend

as most things do not

and i guess what is good will never stay good

just as what is bad didn't ever stay very bad

-

xi. you used to always wait as i swallowed cardboard stiffness

and threw away half-full bottles of orange juice

all charm

and wit

and molten golden winks

and the frozen air

cut into my perpetually pink cheeks

while our hands were either together or stuffed deep

into the starless gulps of our winter jackets

middays were catastrophes as we sat on the curb and ate lollipops

i still carry them in my bag after you left for rome

just in case you ever wanted

to come back

-

xii. i stay away farther then i should

you know i apologise too much and make choices

that are empty and slithering

you will find better people i'm sure

people who aren't me

it is the sensible thing to do

but i wonder over and over and over if you see

those people and think the same things too

that they are not you

that they are not you

-

xiii. i bury my nose into the breathless ticking 

of a watch and i see your feet walking away

turn me inside out

there isn't much to look at either way

we are all so terribly sad 

in this terrible normality

your red blur of a sweater bleeds into the cracks 

of my fingernails even though

you touch everyone but me

this is a fever dream and

this is when i realise

we can't go back