Eve Rounds

the white in the white

heading south
i see her approaching
by borrowed bicycle
white earbuds white capri pants
white breezy bob
pedaling to the rhythm section of her chin to teeth
to florescent gum
“good morning”
a smile
a little girl’s hopefulness
an old woman’s modest satisfaction of self
white teeth unabashed

i needed that
to run faster to run with a sure foot
a sure stride a sure breath
a soft moment
i. am. small.
world. feels. big.
therefore i must fit.
i do fit.
effortlessly
if the trying ceases to try so fucking much
entangled in a delayed reaction wishing to have returned all of her sentiments
wasted time spent eternally cocooned
wasted time spent internalizing
that smile

heart empty heart beating
body in motion tarrying emotion
mind empty mind beating
time has such conviction

heading north
i see her approaching
my foot stride breath offer this moment
she is delighted to find that my smile matches her own
eye contact
“good morning”
kindred little girls kindred old women
white teeth

good morning untitled

what happens now save every voicemail not that his tone would have been forgotten but to hear him call me tweety as many times as

snip snip

the magic of a fresh cut i am literally lighter though not by much my shoulders have less to lug my neck has less to

but ok but

write some poems that i can give him ok (but they’ll all be about the hims) good idea bad idea no good twinning and losing

a 5 7 5 for e

peering through thick glass your back to me is waiting any news at all? running down broad steps into your brotherly arms crying without breath!

incircles

is it the ticking of the third hand or the faucet dripping onto discount bulk blueberries both measuring time “going in circles” as he would

a poem about you for you (and you)

you are your own though your temperament reminds me of him your head is more ripe mango while his was more soft plum my love