By Laurel Ahlfeld
Date: 2010 May 05
Comment on this Work

Mojito #2

The jumbled thoughts of three weeks
(only three weeks?)
time becomes clearer (muddier?)
Mojito #2
Proudsadhopefullonelygrateful does not sit well upon my hips
It pulls too tight and rides up, showing wrinkles in the smooth façade I wear
My hips- these hips (that miss your fingertips)- too wide
Not small enough to fit the world you're in
And yet "I love you"s do not fade
Even though naked girls with masks are everywhere
If they knew how to make one squeak maybe they could put down the masquerading and pack up a picnic to fill the skinny spaces between their heart and ribs
And I know it's my visceral insecurities talking- the 13 year old girl who ran until she puked and ate less than she burned for 2 years
But I want to be them deep down- not for their discipline towards carbohydrates, but because they can press gently against your skin to pose for pictures if only for a moment (and God I pray it's only a moment- and how I crave much more than a moment!)
Because somehow they fit into this world you dove in to
I am ready, willing, able to dive in too
Because I've never met a man with eyes so true and impurities so pure and honest from the start that secretly your scars became my favorite part to rest my kiss
But not too long!
I didn't want you to suspect for fear of making you aware
The real secret is I won't eat broken pretzels, but I treasure broken people; and I do not like odd numbers, but odd is where there's comfort
And I miss the way you kissed my forehead in a way so soft I'm not sure you meant me to notice (but I do- I mean did- I mean do)
Your face by glowing laptop while you might have thought me sleeping
And if I could really write this proper, there'd be music playing sweetly
We would dance kiss in the station- our love is always moving
But mojitos make me muddy (clearer?) and the words become a jumble
Then when I finally hear your voice the other details fade away and my dominating thoughts push forward
"I love/miss you!"
Which I'm sure is so intellectually unstimulating (do not get bored with me! the words will come again, I swear!)
But they pound so loud!
I can't hear through them to find any others, and none of this would make decent lyrics
But if I could write you proper- you'd surely be a song
I would call it
"Wistful Escapist Seeks Adventure With Radiant Dreamer"
No label would dare go near it and only a couple copies ever made
Because who even writes about true love anymore much less believes it can overcome?
So I'd give one copy to you and keep one for myself- I never learned the circle of fifths, so pardon the simplicity
"But isn't that what makes us beautiful?" my muddy (clear?) voice wonders
So I set you down in ink and maybe when you read this, you can hear the tune