Mariah Thompson
Do You
and desperation.
The faucet drips
I really used to believe
we'd be the unstoppable sweethearts. My sweet heart
wanted to believe in love the first time.
My stomach drops
Let’s go back to what we thought we knew:
Carefully sporadic trips
everything
buzzed at our fingertips so
we mistook curiosity for omnipotence. Silly
Warp pebbles into clocks
ignorance we clutched unknowing
amongst bright beds of thickstem aster and tiger lily.
Remember the taste of peach in the evenings? Vanilla ice cream
chilling the metal spoon before it reached our lips. We thought ourselves
innovative, or crafty.
Tick, tick, tock,
We swam in smug adolescence, joyful in our frequent
unchecked mistakes.
Drip, drip, drop
finally: silence.