Olive Juice — Another attempt in the poets’ world

Olive Juice

Inspired by the peanut-butter to my jelly, the iced to my tea, the scooby to my snack, the man of my dreams…

 

Sometimes I wish there were stronger words,

Better words,

Words with the capability to illustrate what I mean to say.

 

Four letters lack warmth.

Home.

Four letters lack strength.

Damn.

Four letters are cellophane.

Love.

 

Or maybe,

Four letters are perfect.

Maybe some things in this world are too big for big words.

Maybe some words exist to fill a void which cannot be filled with ink on paper,

 

But we try.

 

You are the warm wind in the second week of spring,

Knotting my hair and stretching my smile wide.

I feel so full.

So full that I can no longer contain my joy,

Belting Taylor Swift lyrics into the East Austin air,

Because telling the world is the only way to know it is real.

 

I didn’t think I would meet you so soon,

Under such odd circumstances,

Hidden behind a bat-shaped mask,

Cloaked in artificial confidence,

Marinated in well-whisky and seasonal ale.

 

But you surprised me.

 

I didn’t think you would make me laugh.

This was exhausting the last time.

No room left for laughter.

But you opened the door,

And you pulled out my chair,

And you made room.

 

And you surprised me.

 

They say we were made with four arms, and four legs.

Chasing four letters,

Separated in spite,

Doomed to search for eternity,

Longing for our second halves.

 

I didn’t think I would find you so soon,

But there you were,

You surprised me.

And perhaps you will stay. 

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