waving at myself
held huge in the sky
stretched taut over the skin of myself
rolling endlessly away beneath my touch
Like many of us I wrote many piles of poetry while in High School. I was a self-consciously intellectual teenager (a terrible combination: you're exquisitely aware of all the stupid things you're doing, and there's not a thing you can do about it), and more than a little pretentious when it came to "my writing" (erk). I wrote one poem about my fears surrounding sex/sexuality that a friend of mine liked so much she had it published in the school literary magazine--without telling me. Ahem.
You won't be reading that poem here. Or any other poem I wrote, for that matter. This is because I like you.
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