• Lena Drake

the boy with three houses

Did you think I forgot you? Velvet

hands and lifts in your shoes. Took

the invitation to your house upstate

where I worried we'd split the bill.

Had a type I found in the eyes of

people that were still new. Had a

tape, as one does on vacation,

desperation doesn't know no. I

asked for a blank wall--somewhere

with natural light. I wanted you

to watch, wanted to see you see

me. Delight on your face, maybe

surprise. I translated the distance

between us as intimidation; I offered

too much to the boy with three houses.

My only audience that day; I was big

enough to fill the room, convinced

I scared you back into your seat. You,

whose face read more than it revealed,

you who was certain that I was

magnificent. Risky for a girl with a type/

with a tape. We couldn't have been more

than a body apart. The way you heard me

unnerving. Do you remember me now

or do you try to forget? The phone call,

afternoon, no apology to be found. It

can feel cruel to be loved when that's

all you're looking for.




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