b sharp minor

today, while i was visiting my old high school and talking to one of my teachers, a few girls who apparently graduated many years ago came to visit as well. i caught the name of one of them. she was really cute. as in, i wanted to start a conversation but was incapable of doing so, since the group context and (this mostly:) my general amazement rendered me speechless.

i’ll probably never see her again, and it’s a damn shame.

one of these days i’ll get good at starting conversations with cute girls.

til then,

it was nice to meet you, mystery alum.

one feeling at a time:

my hungry stomach (close to my heart),

my goosebump arms

my slender wrist, warm

for your soft, piercing eyes.

I cannot, I cannot let you take over like this

my mind in a haze,

but the world is pulling at my teeth, my toes, my hair

for my over-full life in need

yet up to the brim again with visions.

if only it were easier to lose sight in my mind

but even awake on dry land I dream of

oceans contained in your gaze

not fire, not when your skin

makes maps kindling

in a connect-the-dots game I am unfit to play.

too young,

too far,

reaching for the next bar on the playground,

I’m gonna be a big girl now,

reaching out, knowing that on the day I swing

it will be too late to rescue this moment.

so I press your fingers to savor like flowers

and memorize the way your hair falls in rivers

so that even if I forget,

even if I succeed,

even if I let go of my bitten lip

and learn to cry,

I will remember

the untarnished way I see you now,

the way the sunlight hits your face,

which will one day fade.

and though it’s for the best

I will miss,

I will miss the way my eyes caught your movements

because even if it would have only meant tears

I know by now

everyone is different

and I will not find another

with quite your full, warm

smile.