Friday, February 6, 2009

February 4, 2009

If I were to give you something
to remember me by, it would
be an orange popsicle.
Slightly melted and falling off
its birdcage stick, I would crush it 
into the palm of your open hand.
I would hold it until it burned.

When it finished dripping onto
the Halloween street, I 
would kiss you, one hand
behind your neck, one hand
at the saddle of your jaw.

As I walked away I would
hope that when you finally 
looked down at your numb hand
you would let the words: cold,
orange, popsicle, and pain
staple me in your life forever.