Valentine’s Day
When Andi said don’t I have a beautiful body,
and clutched the skeleton key.I saw two sorority sisters today
and they were wearing brown sorority sweaters
with gold sorority letters. On the contrary,
I don’t want distance at all. Not at all.
If you’re ever bored up in the attic,
you can rearrange the letters in my name.
If you ever need a recommendation, just light another candle.
One of the sorority girls had long red hair
and feathered bangs, a great figure, California weather,
a show of hands if you were wrong all along.The drinking fountain in the park squirted water
so cold it could only mean one thing, if you
know what I mean, and I know that you don’t.
Cold water nipped my lip and now I have the blues.
Alyssa has a handful of violets.
Alyssa has a lavender lunch pail and a matching headband.
When the roll is called, she always says, “present.”The megaphone is a black hole. Forgive me.
The plumbing system under the drinking fountain
leads deep into the ground and lets out into the attic.
Every day is Valentine’s Day in the attic.
Every day is a varsity letter sewn into her jacket.
This is all hearsay; heard it with my ear to the ground.
Heard it from the “I” at the end of her name.
Every freckle on her body is an auburn heart; I just know.
Every spider in the attic is building a sweater; I just do.
I’m in the fabric. I can’t find my way out of the fabric.
Every thread is a live wire. Every letter is a love letter.