Poem: to the big dipper/on your chest

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Haley Willaims/Staff

to the big dipper

on your chest

 

You come like whiskey

In your hushed man-steps

Up my steps

And her ring, Silver

You smell like there

You once smelled like your house

When you were younger

I was younger

(and I’ll stay youngest)

You came like cheap beer

Bought at crummy gas stations

Where your parents locked the car

Told you to stay inside

(Transparent glass can keep you from seeing)

But not from growing up

So now you’ve left and now you’re older

And you come like whiskey to my door

This man you became while I slept

We collected dreams, we held dreams

I still hold them

But you live them, you are empty

You let my child-dreams tickle your lips

Yet no longer swallow them like Saturday night smoke

Your tattoo is what I first remembered of you

And what I will remember to come

I can feel it now

As I push your shirt up and trace its outline

When we first met

I said in girl-whispers

“What is it?”

“The Big Dipper” you said

in boy-whispers

And you follow it naked into the night

To places that make you smell different

And your teeth rub your tongue in new ways and all the sounds come out different

Next year I’ll be gone

Too.

My door won’t be open

Too.

Oh,

Big Dipper.

 

Sarah Adler is a contributor to The Weekender. Contact her at [email protected]

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