things we’ll tell ourselves in the future
on parallel train tracks,
we set the scene
that’s so high school
i told you, he’s changed a lot
it’s different now
i don’t know
my gender studies class
told me to look
out for people like him
they seem to have their own languagegood days
gray rain won’t stop
our stack of library books
our rhubarb pie in the oven
florence sings endlessly on the radio
even when npr comes on
we slide down the hardwood
floors in matching wool
socks
these are the good days
il pleutfourth grade
i didn’t know rocks could
creep into my stomach
so quickly.
you had a suitcase
filled with geodes.
a geode is a cavity in a rock
lined with crystals.
and you have to break
the rock open
first.
igneous rock is formed
through the solidification of
magma.
once the scorching magma
cools, it can’t go back
to a liquid state.
the study of rocks is called
petrology and fourth grade
wasn’t even the
worst year of my life and i don’t
know if i miss you or the
earth science labs more.sunday
we went to church every
third sunday, you liked the wooden
pews, i liked the silent
preacher. saint jude
watched us from the
ceiling, her golden robes
a glimmering reminder of
our future. i think i might
be missing you already
but it’s hard to tell these
days and whenever it
rains i remember how the
roof leaked, peeling
saint jude away
from us. we were holy
ground.
Thank you to Emma and Ian for modeling.
One Comment
i love this so much!!!! esp sunday