Peel (Things I Wanted)

Oz.  The specific Oz tape.
The Mammoth video store.  The Man Moth underneath the train.
Daddy Long.  Mexican Jumping.
Capitalized Dreams.
Dorothy was my more attractive friend.  I was the nine-year-old goth.
Penny candy.  Green river.  The mother-in-law.
Here are the groceries and here are the temptations of fast food.
I made the carrot shavings into roses for your birthday.
The specific Oz movie, “Return to Oz,” was not age appropriate.
I dug my heels deep into the carpeting.  They dragged me by my plaid cuffs.
Her stomach slightly exposed by the awkward corner of her blouse.
I wanted that too.
Flowers on Monday.  Thank yous by Friday.
I was going to make him dinner for his birthday; he wanted rum.
The poem outside of the self.
The onion ring.
Nonsensical princess romances.
She was nice enough to buy my cupcakes twice though I barely knew her.
(The carrot shavings were for you only.)
You grabbed my face and kissed me hard in the corner of my mouth.
I kept writing.
My grandmother had a new beanie baby for every visit.  This was the miracle of the 90’s.
Most things I never asked for too hard.  In the corner of my mouth.
Lemon drop.  A shot of whiskey for every line.
Asphyxiation.  In a not sexy way.
Wakes you up in the kiddie pool.
Don’t step on the koi fish.  They are my father’s only friends.
Nonsensical prince promised me.
I kept writing.  I stopped calling.
She pressed her fingers underneath my cheekbones.

The rose-shaped peels were or were not the result of sentiment.



Forthcoming in Breadcrumb Scabs


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