8.
The anticipation of the city
ate me up.
Elliot filled my thoughts
Spilling over –
I couldn't stop smiling.
Then she was there,
standing on the platform
waiting for me.
Her hair was plaited down her back
soft strands of ripe wheat
tied with scraps of cloth.
Hi
she called,
lifting her hand.
I couldn't say a word,
just ran for her as fast as I could
dropping my bags to embrace her.
I missed you
was all I could say between kisses.
You're kissing me in public
she sounded shocked.
You never kiss me like this
not outside anyway.
I don't care anymore.
The words poured from me
hit the ground like drops of rain
after the longest dry spell
I want to be happy.
Oh, okay.
Elliot smiled, tucked a strand of hair
behind her ear.
I can do that,
be happy.
Okay.
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...
