cross over
the breeze blew sweet, reminded me of our summer selves
the things we said in breakback august, sitting on your rooftop in the
dragdown brooklyn heat
we were always a little afraid of our fall selves
afraid of our ambitions, afraid of actually doing the things we always
dreamed about
afraid like a schoolgirl on a sunday night
talking about the things we will change come labor day,
talking about the people whose names we won’t carry around in our throats
once the leaves change
remember the time we fell asleep with the lights on?
remember when i knew your 5am?
remember when you knew how my bones felt underneath you?
remember when you finally untied your bow of inconsistence?
my winter self has always been a summer shell
i am living out of my body come December
the sweet and wayward words of july,
a hazy sugary mess of a dream
remember the pretty girlfriends, the ways we still tried?
remember the taste of your birthday cake and how we left it in the moonlight?
remember the way that you burned coffee beans every single morning just for the smell
remember the things i can’t recall?
let’s not be afraid this year, let’s do what we feel is right in our sun-ridden bones
or we could defy growing older, stay on your rooftop, dizzy with dreaming
don’t let anything drag us down this time
This poem is from Amanda Dissinger's first collection of poetry, 'This is How I Will Tell You I Love You,' out now via Bottlecap Press. The book release party will be taking place at Baby's All Right in Brooklyn, NY on Saturday June 6th at 1pm with poetry readings (including Potluck contributor Eric Silver) and musical performances. More info is available here.