- 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.
