by mickharris

before we were ingenues, pursing lips and cocking hips

we were boy-slim babies

eyes and limbs and sliding cutoff shorts that fit before we came here but now all we can eat is watermelon

carrot sticks

liquid plump and forgiving the knots in our stomachs

the overhead buzzing

air conditioner moist and coughing water onto black sponge carpet

underneath the mold blossoms and ripples


i moved to rhode island in the summer of 2005.

i think.

those numbers confuse me i have to count backwards no 2004 was when you failed out of college and came home and waited for the letter to follow, 2005 was when you went to school and made friends and tried to pretend that you knew where your life was going and then it was 2006, 2006 when you packed things into boxes that were too big, too impossibly heavy to ever mail or move and your dad opened the trunk of your car and started laughing at you even though he had just been screaming in the house what are you doing what the fuck do you think you’re doing with your life