I am a romantic today.
And with every eye I
Catch
And iridescent smile I
See
My heart seizes and squeaks.
My pupils tango with the breath of baby pink optimism
That floats like lavender milk –
Sweet and young,
On my palms.
I am a child
Whose fingertips
Brush that saturated poster;
The one that leaves sticky evidence
Of white wall and clear adhesive incompatibility.
Pink cherub,
You who plucks
The fatty harp strings
That line my ribcage.
Ring your plum naivety into my ears,
And burst this swelling vestige of daydreams into
A gooey culmination of bubblegum and butterflies.
Some influx of excitement,
That 11 year old fantasy and
18 year old nightmare.
I wish it were you who followed through
On your mawkish
Poetry,
And not the cloaked author
Of intestinal angst-
The hated dissatisfied quibbler.
You darling weaver of myth,
I may have scorned this opera
For eons before but,
Today I float
Upon each
Gorgeous dot
That smiles
On your C Major scale.
Photographs by Alcira Hava
