IF YOU DIDN'T READ THE DESCRIPTION GO BACK AND READ IT.
Is for the objects themselves.
Mine is striped rainbows, fuzzy,
and so short you thought against trading.
Yours is black.
The darkest and most emotional scarf
I have ever wrapped around my body.
It has ties on the end and I twist it when
I smell you in the rough material and
feel your hands on my shoulders.
Soft, scornful, but altogether my savior.
I think of this letter as a word. It tells me to
look a the crisp papers we mourn over.
It's also the first letter of your name,
which I am so familiar with, but have
changed, to be like the one you know to love you.
She runs your first and last together like it was whole,
and I've made a habit of doing this.
It's horrible, like the scrapes of under or upper classes
and ice in chemistry. So I say my goodbyes quickly and
hope you don't know I called your cell phone.
The alabaster city you bought the scarf in
is the city my brother was born in,
the city I'm going to college in,
the city I fell in love with
and got my first scarf in. That's why you got yours.
I try not to ask you things during our AP class
when Melton stares me down in old man glasses.
It's the only hour you don't defend me, but rather
argue about pencils and Dr. Faustus.
It's almost just good enough to hear your voice.
Limping down the road, and you say 'ro-ad',
like the slurred tongues still tortured us from afar.
As of recent injuries, I can't run, I can't walk. I'm slow as your
bass guitar hangs heavy in hands and brushes the
rough concrete. Don't rush me,
I can't fall into something and not catch up with myself.
And remember the one time I was a fool.
You flashed me that ragged smirk and told me
it was a good try. It was good enough to feel your
hands reaching for me with ‘requiem’ written on your forearm.
‘Funny thing’, you said, ‘that we didn't finish this yesterday’.
I laugh and think of things like forever, and how
I've never had such a distant yet consistent friend.
Or at the end of the day, when you tried to warn me
of faulted microphones, and my eyes were closed.
I forced an embrace. So freely,
you took the motion and I could only think of
the one who is known to love you.
However, if our trading scarves didn't bother her,
why should your faithful sympathy to me?