wtich legs

Witch Legs
(by me)

The tell-tale squeak of new boots
as I walk
not broken in yet
they still have that smell
that shine
the laces that have no fray
leaving the top three holes open
torn stockings poking through
Your brother calls them “witch legs”
as he walks by with his fit friend
the one with the green flannel
around his waist
black jeans
his boots well worn
laces frayed
He says “I like your hair”
as he walks by
out the door
You lean over close
say “I told you black was your color”
my skin still stained
your fingernails
drip drops on the bathroom tile
He hangs at The Metro
we can take Bus 53
I think that girl who sits behind us in math
knows the guy at the door
sneak in
wear that dress
the one from the Salvation Army
with the blue buckles
But, I think the black baby doll
with the green tights
these new boots
would match with that shirt
around his waist
where my hands should be
as he bends over
to hand me a clove
and says “did you know your ears are blue”
“Black”
I would say
“You mean like the song?”
“No like the dye”
“No it was Kurt who died
not Eddie”
But it would not matter
the music playing loud
these conversational misunderstandings
he would still be touching my shoulder
his breath on my neck
and maybe by the end of October
he might even remember my name

Black (live) :: Pearl Jam

4 thoughts on “All I taught her was everything :: songs and poetry

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