6.
I called Elliot from my silent place.
I wanted to know what it was like
to hear her voice in my trees.
Are you outside? She asked.
Why the fuck are you outside?
No swearing in the sacred place,
I told her. You're with my trees.
Oh
her gasp was perfectly dramatic
and I laughed.
I can picture you, among the trees and earth and...snow?
She giggled. Is there snow?
Elliot was more of a chortler,
breathy and gleeful.
To giggle was out of character
but undeniably adorable.
I wanted to kiss that giggle and hold it on my tongue
like a sweet that melted.
I miss you
she whispered it.
I wish you were here,
it would be so much easier if you were.
I miss you, too.
It felt like glass in my throat.
It would be harder, I want to say.
But I still wish it.
She cleared her throat,
meaning the subject was changing.
You should go out,
see people from school.
Elliot, I say, you know
you know I never had friends.
Then drink,
I could feel her shrugging.
You deserve a fucking drink, with your mother.
I admitted she was right,
and I went for a drink.
YOU ARE READING
Bloom, Shifting
PoetryElliot. The name sits on my tongue, melting as if it were sugar. Elliot. I hold that sweet name in my mouth all the way home, mouthing it to the darkness. She moves to the city to learn how to write. She trades redwoods for skyscrapers and...
