back then every new word was
magic—a new world to cave in on itself
a body to run around in. we read because
of winn-dixie and i scribbled down
my favorites to tell myself
come monday—for this body, each new word was
mine—a chance to be held close
while we opened anew—a shell
revealing what can be—a body to run in because
it can. boycott and melancholy—ignoramus
demise. bonus points if i use ’em in
a sentence. bonus points if each new word
fits in a sentence to yell at a boy. we
chased each other til i yelled
ignoramus and boycott—til they ran without caring
what it meant. later they’d throw
my skirt up—later put their hands on
my body—say
it’s not like it was [ ].
back then, every new word
held a body—a magic ready to cave in
on itself—til it’s ready to run again because
it can. i boycott this
melancholy—this melancholy cannot
fathom me.