I am that girl
by Ellyn Maybe
I am that girl.
Not that girl of 60’s chandeliers and a swinging do.
Just that girl.
The one that guys would meet and come up with an emergency excuse.
I being gullible empathized with the sudden surgery got to run down the block like a gazelle.
When you stayed and listened like listen was a verb.
When you just simply stayed.
I set up shop like in Trader’s Joe, like a sampler tray.
Could be, mixed with cashews, left a very deep impression.
I dipped my memories into chocolate like I was a strawberry.
And remembered what spring tasted like on planets that didn’t thaw often.
Green, ice lilies, oxygen.