Poetry

Stripes – Bryn Bluth

Distance is simply a concept of space, unfortunately, however, it’s a very real one. There was nothing missing before we met, no chunks falling out here or there, I was a happy, whole, person, but your goofy hair and radiant attitude enraptured my mind and filled me to the brim. It was some adventure, that summer; you taught me how to read into the stars for a better understanding of my soul while showing me how to spread just enough strawberry cream cheese on my bagel. We sat in store windows and questioned the rationality of inflatable ties, passed Italian sodas back and forth between Sci Fi novellas found amongst our late-night library visits, summited mountains, breathless and heaving; I conquered lightning storms for you, so I could watch the elation on your moonlit face as you played your third last round of frisbee soccer two hours past curfew. We had something beautiful, and we still do, it’s simply been stretched from one coast to the other, marred by extended separation, but that’s okay- our relationship is a tiger which has earned its stripes.

But I’m starting to forget how my name tastes in your mouth and that scares me, because surface tension is a fragile thing, and I want a tomorrow for our tiger.

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