Twenty One

Twenty one is not yet old enough

to understand truly the gravity of that

four letter word you two toss around.

You might think you love her

when she lifts that magnificent curtain of

shimmery hair, her necklace

held together by a paperclip,

or when you hear her tiny, familiar whistle

escape from those two sweet apple slices,

she searches for you among crowded grocery aisles-

you can’t help but run to her.

 

Will it still be love when she calls

from a movie theater on an unsuspecting

afternoon, and your lips curl up when her

name lights the screen. But the mood changes

once her words cut the string you tied to her

months ago and her far away fingers reach over

the satellite connection to steal

love right out of your throat-

she’ll keep it balled in her pocket,

surrounded by swollen fist.

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