That Was Then

The 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.

Reviews

[just is]

Wow, i just loved your last stanza,
this is amazing, such depth in your words,
kind of sad too. nicely written