ou somehow liked my flippant attitude
and my aim in target games -
maybe my snorts of laughter seemed nice at first too
I don’t know how we ended up
barefoot on a beach at sunset,
cool waves on our feet.
my purple socks lay next to your jacket -
it was a pleasant evening
my hair is a mess from our rollercoaster ride
and you chuckle as you muss it up even more.
your palm is playing with a rogue curl
and I don’t like how closely your eyes study me.
loose hair tie on my left wrist,
the glowstick bracelet you’ve won for me on my right,
a white teddy-bear resting beside us,
our trio waiting for a shooting star
that might never pass
your arm, casual around my shoulder,
thinking I wouldn’t notice.
I laugh at your nervous dimpled smile
and wonder if you would taste
like pink cotton candy.
this is no love-at-first-sight nonsense…
but there is a peculiar feeling
that might simply be hope
shampoo, cologne and sea breeze,
I breathe in your scent -
it’s oddly comforting
(but I don’t care for you that much)
I’m sure your lips would taste like
salty popcorn and chocolate
(but I really don’t care about you)
this has been, more or less,
a fun, chance meeting -
a mundane teenage fantasy
you use your lighter to put up
a lively, orange bonfire
to warm our feet -
my shoes are ruined by rough, ivory sand
fairy lights are hung on alleys,
the stars have a fiesta of their own.
sipping sweet sodas in plastic cups,
we admire the landscape without seeing it.
the carnival still goes on behind us,
ferris wheel grand on display
your cheerful voice makes
empty promises in the night -
we dream of sailing on ships of clouds
and driving cars of porcelain
and I am frustrated to be the one to know:
I have to be awake, I’m not allowed to dream
there’s summer nostalgia in the air,
like passing through an empty playground -
they will pack up the tents tomorrow
and you too will be gone with the morning tide…
I’ll miss a stranger I’ve never even known
articol scris de Nereia Crisan
fotograf: Mădălina Dinu