Love Is a Refrain

poem #1

dad’s driving, you’re safe in the backseat, 
your favorite song was your older brother’s first.
the origin of fear is arguments you don’t understand yet; 
all you know is people can be with or without love.

you’re on sabbatical from mending, a holy voice shaped like bitterness, saying:
“nothing is good about the way you hate. nothing in that will save you.”
though you don’t feel like loving, you do want to be loved, 
even if you’ve gone and proven yourself incapable.

after him, the soft animal of your body isn’t well,
except with your mother’s hand on your forehead.
you want shuttered blinds, for this desire to leave, 
and to forget some people have ever touched you. 

everyone is moving on and growing up
your friends are kissing strangers and glowing pink
but you don’t wear your 17-year-old body any better than you did, 
a hermit too big for its shell—shy, and—there’s this ache,
a loneliness you’re trying to bring to heel.

it finds you then, in this fragile age, while looking for romance in a clementine (or maybe desire, even just intention)
—a sweeter song than any you’ve ever heard. 
it’s in the mirror, it sounds like brown eyes,
like being carried home and hugging first. 
it’s older than fear, and with a much kinder face,
it sounds like that song your older brother showed you. 

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Importing poetry from my bookstagram to here! Sorry if you’ve already seen this one, I hope it’s still alright the second time around.