I told myself (and y’all) I would learn to be brave and post more creative work on here, and I’ve been slacking. Here’s that poem I told you I wrote this weekend.
My Longest Love Affair by Hanna Jacunski
The grandmother in front of me calls out to a mop-top toddler.
She half-laughs the same nickname you gave me,
and everything stops for a heartbeat.
Just like that, I am in my room alone.
I was screaming underwater and you were timezones away,
playing music too loudly.
Crying cat-in-a-cage howls. Aching, desperate, hungry.
Just like that, I am beaming.
Holding my own ribs. Exploring my own skin.
A little sparrow preening because someone was proud of her
for making it through the night. Patient, new, open.
Just like that, I am dreaming about you.
A silly fantasy that you fit into, despite every worry otherwise.
A line of love threading year after year together. Warm, tired, constant.
The world jumps into orbit again. Mop-top and her grandmother
grab their bags of peaches and milk and eggs.
I trip forward and pay for my groceries.
You ebb at my ankles and then wash back to low-tide.
I’m okay now. I exist outside of your attention.
I stopped selling you for parts,
desperate to see you in the people around me.
They are their own chewed fingernails or half smiles or messy hair,
I’m okay now. I don’t feel guilty when someone sleeps in my bed.
You don’t lurk in the corner of every sad song.
The aching went away with the wishes for reciprocity.
I’m okay now. The nickname is simply a serpent with good intentions.
The last puzzle piece pushed into place.
A key in a lock. The weight of two blankets in the dead of winter.
I’m okay now, bug.
This piece means a lot to me, so please be kind. I’d love constructive criticism if you want to drop me a line. Also: these aren’t the original line breaks, but I had to edit the formatting a bit for WP specs.