Tag: anniepoem

Dear Erin,

I know sometimes you feel
like you’re walking down a sidewalk runway
and the spotlight is on you; 
that there is too much of you to love.

But look at yourself, my dear: 
you are a monument to 
the human race. 
There is history written in
the architecture of your bones,
stories embroidered in the strands
of your eyes, 
and generations hidden in your face (your father’s
nose and your grandmother’s hips). 

You are home to an ever-expanding
universe inside you
with skies of electric neurons,
blue vein-rivers and sandy skin shores.
The earth has made you her reflection: 
curves like meandering streams, 
moon-eyes, and thighs
strong and rooted trees. 
Do not let anything uproot you. 

You are a flower, my love, 
and you cannot be afraid to bloom. 
Imagine how bland the spring would be
if the orchids and lilies were too shy
to blossom. 

The universe does not want
a bouquet of only roses. 

But Our Life Is Not A Romantic Comedy

You told me it wouldn’t work. 
You were looking for 
that “connection” you said, 
and that we were 
”a little off sync.” 

You were looking for kissing
in the rain, declarations of love
from cardboard balconies, and lovemaking
with moans practiced in front of 
the bathroom mirror. 

You wanted me to read scripts, 
but I’ve never been very good 
in front of an audience. 
You were looking for a cookie dough girl
from a claymation, a girl 
whose words were well rehearsed because, 
after all, practice makes
perfect. 

Fucking perfect. 

But did you know,
my space boy, that
two off sync pendulums will eventually
swing the same way? 
That when you are old and grey 
and your sighing limbs are weak, 
you will wish you had someone 
who would truly listen instead of just waiting
for their next line? Or that the “connection” 
will only last for the 120 minutes
(and if you’re lucky, through the credits)?

They say sex sells,
but the worst part is, sometimes
we don’t even know
we’re buying it.