That Was ThenA Poem by QuiteOllieThe oak leaves are brighter than last year. Older. I remember when you held them to my neck and called them butterflies We’d laugh on shaded patches of the football field So the sun wouldn’t see us or show us, At the absurdity of having two tongues, Or three. Our tongues were smart but yours was smartest. Press your hand against my chest And tell me you’ve heard it all before With your lips dry and your neck bent, Four fingers and a thumb can see as well as any eye. You almost had me. Lies were more convincing When all I needed was a word and a sigh, But tell me how many butterflies you see Now that the sun’s broken through And my tongue splits. © 2012 QuiteOllie |
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