Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Day 4: Pobject's Secret Crush

We spent that year painting
bottles in oil
and acrylic Aztec gods.

Anna and Tanya and me, we
were tight. We strutted.
We said what we wanted to.
We worked in bold strokes.

Alex was the kid. He
was a mouse, a gray-eyed
owlet in glasses, quiet as a cat.
He was our baby brother. We
unwound our lives in front of him,
playful tangled skeins.

He laughed.
He was wise.

And you? You rarely spoke,
even when we spoke to you.
What was it to you
what she said to her about him,

who then said to me
what I hadn’t heard from her?

What was I to you, my Aphrodite?

You laughed, too. I loved your laugh.
I painted it into my bottles
and my pyramids. It was a sun.

I only told you afterward,
and even then I might, yes I might
have been joking,

but I wasn’t.

"You’re beautiful!"
Yes, you were.

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