Teen Angst: Take One
We were both spectators
Binocular grooves on the bridge of our noses
I got so used to searching unfamiliar basements
so accustomed to surveying loose social circles where I was sure he would be waiting-
I was so certain I would find him with his limbs protruding out from the cardboard box high school clichés stuck him into
I had rehearsed the slippery instant two hundred and five times when our eyes would meet
in my British literature class first quarter of my senior year-
we would both be choking on August swelter pressing our desks together
and there would be something in the hook of his smile pulling me
acquiescent out the open window
But when our eyes finally did meet all I could recognize were the binocular grooves on the bridge of his nose
I suppose he was searching for a girl whose limbs could be readily tucked beneath her like an apology-
I do not know this-
I have not yet asked him
All I know is that I am an amputee