To Party Talk,

Maybe I’ve finally exploded, a million particles in blue air waves, aimed at you. Maybe your attention made me so warm, my cheeks so blushed. I didn’t know pink could transform so red, so deep.

I kept looking for big answers, for big romance, for signs from the universe. I looked too close to me, I looked in open fields, I looked in corners where smiles were all wrong, all aimed at wrong places. I wanted it shouted from the stars. I wanted fire in my name. I wanted someone on my fingertips, I wanted someone at the end of the phone.

Then. It was you, in front of me. You hadn’t crossed my mind in months. We were improbable, we were star-crossed yet uninitiated. So close, yet intangible, an impossible car ride away.

All it took was one comment, one reply. It was a photo of you, your beautiful silhouette, a million galaxies in the sky. I wrote “cool”. You wrote “you”. You took me from one syllable. I drip it on my tongue, sickly sweet, smooth as velvet. It hits the back of my teeth, it fills up my cheeks. Such a word. It’s pink. It’s wildflowers. It’s golden moments. It’s a word all full of valentines. It’s a call from hours way yet right here in front of me. It’s loud in the silence, in car rides, in empty vodka bottles. My screen screams.

It’s all wrong though. The “you” you wrote is for me, but the beautiful thing about the word you is it’s all for you, you, you.


From your Costume Party.