Sometimes I wonder about you.
The smell of rotten dairy and growing pains
pushes crystal clear tear drops onto my face.

So I bite my lip and pretend I didn’t say what I did.

Awestruck caution, distinctive and darting clung to the thin brown braids that sagged,
not that pippi image
the cold temperature of your house must have seeped into your soul
that sinister spring day
While excitement and clarity eclipsed your truth,
a lick lick, smile with the eyes dog and a master puppeteer

I wish you weren’t the one to blame.

My first secret, no roaring, no scratching,
defenseless and warm like a chick-a-dee
coating my lips with a shimmy shine of confidence.
Sitting slow in science class,
letting the sweat on my palms soak my heart covered line paper.
I knew you easy and I knew you true.

Slip slip secret, shut shut eyes, slow slow frown, scorn scorn me.

Sometimes I think it’s funny how much you can ignore.
Like your father, you lend a scary statement to receive back fear
you turned the pillars in my eyes to see-saws
or maybe more like a russian roulette table
because I guess what I can tell you and I know what I can’t.

I wish now you would ask me about my first secret,
your squinted green marble stones spilling sorry as if they knew me in those following years.
As if they recognized the uncivilized eyes I bore to replace the new found exactitude
you smoke screened my panic, as I tried to undo that three syllable word

So I was afraid of myself. Not what I had become.

In the fashion of first kisses I thought you were oh so ready for,
your fishy look hooked on the pronoun not the experience.
You chewed on the “her” and spit it on my soul.

Here I am telling the tale of our tragic traces
So they can know of my “Lesbian” stamped tongue.
But oh idealistic twelve year old shaped, best friend forever
I will never really tell you, me, again.