poem: the boy after the anime

if you pulled my

dna out in lace like coffee you’d

find a girl

who cries over anime

and foreign boys

and has you like a dream

under her eyelids.

careful, my mother said:

it is a thing women do

they make these blossoming fantasies

where the boy leaves kisses up the side of my neck

and smiles at me.

there is something darkly masculine in his intelligence

and when I pull my fingers away from my irises

they are bleeding red with all

the sex dreams

but

my innocence is obvious in the girlish way I bit my lip to

hold back the mind-tears when you smile

because you are so oddly beautiful.

i would like to make this a reality

and not live in my head

it’s up to you, i suppose

because i will otherwise forever be the girl on the sideline

my hair and my smile only over the japanese heartbreak on my phone

because to look up is to see

my own heart breaking in your brown-blue chocolate eyes

again and again and again

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