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I am the girl your father sang songs to before
he met your mother, the One your mother warned
you to never hang out with, the one you talk
into going to church who never gets the gist
of the sermon, who only studies the colors of holy
windows washed in wasted Sunday sunlight.

I am the epiphany of that phrase Lonely in a crowd
of people you sometimes hang around, the yellow
flash of a traffic light before the stable green or red
tells you what direction to take your transit life,
that splash of rain from a passing tire that ruins
the pants you wanted to wear, the girl who listens
but doesn't care, the one you don't want to remember
once you've memorized everything
about her.

One day I will be something else, but I am not
that something now, so get a poster that is flat
and stare at that, it stays the same each time
you look, it doesn't change or wink or move
when you look away, it doesn't cheat you
with false moves, then tell your mother her advice
was very good, and she'll be proud of you again
once she knows you grew up some and all of this
was just for fun.