Oh, How I Miss My Paper Girl.

Paper Girl.
I remember the instant I met you.
In the nasty kitchen.
The nasty upstairs kitchen.


Oh, the kitchen.
Oh, the individual bags of chips.
Oh, the brilliant rotating flavors of generic sodas.

Heather of all people introduced us.
I bet you remember.
I bet you remember your leather jacket
and my red sweat shirt.

Oh, the leather jackets.
Oh, the orange dresses.
Oh, the stenciled heads.

We were turned around with dough in our eyes.
Heather was leaning on the counter.
Over the counter.
Muscles bulging.
Bosom dripping.
Authority reeking.

Do you two know each other?
HUGH!!!?
Are you the other one?!
                The other one?!
Hug.
Big hug!
Big stranger hug!
Hi!
Hi!
When do you start?
November.
You?
March.

I miss you.

I miss walking down very cold streets with you.
I miss talking to you in the car in the morning on the way to packed high school auditoriums.
I miss whispering to you in the summer.
I miss standing next to you at baggage claims.
I miss borrowing your deodorant all the time.


I miss you on a Wednesday night in an over sized white bathrobe under a quilt that you made for me with your hands.

For no particular reason my temples are throbbing
Paper Girl Mine Paper Girl Mine Paper Girl Mine
For no particular reason other than I think I would go anywhere, anywhere
For you,

Skin & Toast.


http://www.maryfons.com/