I write a love poem for a girl I’m not particularly close with. It’s about jellyfish. It’s a good poem and I don’t show it to her. I write a love poem for a girl I’m in love with. It’s about an eclipse. It’s a very, very good poem and I don’t show it to her. I write a ghazal where the radif - the refrain - is love poem. The poem says, I write too many love poems, I can’t name the thing, whatever. Et cetera. It’s a good poem and I show it to everyone.
She’s not made of light. I’ve never been into that sort of thing. There’s a poem that goes Jessica says I feel like a cherry blossom tree under lightning. I tell the girl, when I was younger my body felt like a blade of grass in a strong wind. She puts her hand on my arm and holds me up.
The poem doesn’t talk about any of that. The poem talks about violence, the violence of tenderness, whatever. The poem talks about the sun, the eclipse, her warm body. I’m never warm. The poem also talks about touch.
My friend who’s read the love poem laughs at me. The girl has put me in a poem and I pay too much attention to where she breaks the line. She loves me, she loves me not. The girl has put me in another poem - maybe even a love poem - and I only read it once when I was drunk. Earlier, when I was sober, I asked her what the poem was about. Mark Rothko, she had said. I love Rothko. I looked at the computer screen and saw a google doc with my name.
So I called her by name in my poem. It felt like the thing to do. And I didn’t show her, not even drunk, so I guess I’m worse than she is. In the poem I say we’re both made of warmth - she’s made of warmth, really, and when I’m around her I get warm too. I tell my friend I’m in love with her and they laugh because I’m so obvious.
There’s a lot to write poems about. When I think about her and she’s not there it feels like the moon is in my mouth and I’m choking on the light. When she’s there I don’t think about anything. Things are easy when she’s there. I don’t remember much of her love poem, God help me, but the last line used the word good. Reading it made me remember when I was drunk and kept saying the word good, you’re good, you’re good, although I don’t know if she meant to reference that. She’s good. I look at her and I don’t say it out loud.