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.