when i was in high school,
i dreamed of the day that i would be kissed.
not by you,
(definitely not you)
but walking down the boulevard,
(probably)
sunset and city behind us,
(i hope)
and this unknown person,
(able to look past my flaws)
would tilt up my chin
and make me feel like i wasn't inept with romance.

for context,
my mother has always assumed
that i've worn a clothing size up
from what i actually did.
i've always stared at myself in the mirror
and wondered why
all of my love had turned to cellulite.

in high school,
i had seen all of my friends
going to restaurants,
fingers intertwined,
grinning.
they had been chosen
to receive the love.
i had accepted
that my body
was not a temple
to pray to.

given this context,
i had not imagined
that my first kiss
would be blackout drunk,
(cinco de mayo)
in the back of a closet,
(not even alone)
in the dark
(you couldn't even see my chin to tilt it up)
(but you did anyway).

you showed me that my body
could be loved
and seven months later
i can still feel your arms wrapped around it.

it would benefit me
to stop feeling
this electricity in my chest.
cross out your name in my journals,
drop everything and drive
until your name
can't reach me anymore.

but every time i try
the ropes of your laugh
latch to my ankles.

i love you so much
that i can feel my ribs crack
under the pressure
of my ever-expanding heart.

i can tell you that
your favorite color is green
and you're allergic to apples.
you love The Strokes
and you hate being barefoot
and you haven't talked to your dad in ten years.

we're polar opposites
and yet i am magnetized to you.

you are the shark tattoo
etched onto my ribs,
because you may **** nine people every year,
but i am not afraid of your bite.

maybe
(definitely)
i'm ******* crazy.

but i'm crazy for you,
hoping that one day
(soon)
we just might trip
into love again.