it’s fresh sticks of vanilla deodorant,
cap’n crunch going on sale,
ladies selling mangoes in midtown,
it’s the pictures of baby cows,
the most specific dream tattoos,
documentaries about unsolved ******,
it’s an oxymoronic vegan cheeseburger,
striped shirts with a graphic one layered on top,
the clear memory of pacific air,
it’s all of robert smith’s hair,
prodigy kids on cooking shows,
stinging sunburns quickly fading,
it’s the perfume of onions and garlic sautéing,
smooth sidewalks where mom’s back is safe,
well-loved shoes that used to be white,
it’s an avocado perfectly ripe,
girls riding skateboards alongside boys,
rings that don’t turn fingers green,
its bras that won’t make memory foam of me,
jars full of change -- saving for something,
still going strong senior couples,
it’s an anthem that came up on shuffle,
the last clean socks without a hole,
chipped tooth smiles, snaggled ones too,
it’s just the word hullabaloo,
three new albums in a day,
someone else’s king sized bed,
it’s the **** pieces of loaves of bread,
an empty train after a long night,
dog tails that are just teeny nubs,
it’s sour candies and numb tastebuds,
weezer’s ever expanding discography,
end-of-day hair thrown into a bun,
it’s cobalt.
it’s b flat.
it’s twenty one.
it’s whistling.
it’s goosebumps.
it’s serendipity.
it’s getting out of the sound of the city,
untangling tiny necklace knots,
reuniting with my long distance cats,
it’s tongues to the tune of soundcloud rap,
learning a language even a little,
finally seeing real lighting bolts,
it’s tourist dominoes when the train jolts,
finding keys -- being able to leave,
breaking in the most stubborn shoes,
it’s the empty after puking up *****,
flirting with customers and getting paid,
knowing every word and singing along,
it’s not breaking my friends’ bongs,
still doing cartwheels because i still can,
getting a thirty but taking an hour,
it’s waking up first, getting the warmest shower,
cutting my own hair, well, when it goes well,
having an umbrella when it starts to rain,
it’s getting out a demon stain,
taking pens from work, they don’t pay me
enough,
walking in to no lines at trader joe’s,
it’s picking things up with my toes,
learning the chord i’d been looking for,
tacking knick knacks on the walls,
it’s loitering in suburban shopping malls,
frosting cookies during christmas,
laughing for the first time in a while,
it’s getting told someone likes my style,
feeling a heartbeat other than mine,
sneaking in a second to breathe,
it’s witnessing every single thing,
picking through the good and bad,
and letting the little guys win,
it’s seeing.
it’s living.
it’s taking it in.
