Sakura Hartman

Party

Love letter in an eternal time loop

Popcorn bowl turned barf bag

I think about being in the car and getting lost

Atlantic City as usual

And standing against a wall

All things traveled with the grace of a copper wire and a tap shoe

And a cobblestone street and music that sounds like air and static

And curvature only a suburban lawn can provide

I think about everyone I’ve ever loved

There is unnatural blondes and people with curly hair and frizzy hair and unclipped toenails that hurt inside your shoes and friendship and sharing a blanket only toes can fit under

There’s those who love me like a brother or son

Pajama pants that no longer fit

And the toothiest kiss you can ever imagine

I think about pain and breathing

And a you-shaped space that shapeshifts

A doorframe made of clay or hot plastic

It’s nights like this I thank my mom’s poor vision for gifting me with astigmatism

As my misshapen eyeballs cast rays and prisms when I stare into lights

And in my peripheral

I will die in Party foul martyrdom fashion

I’ll go and bite somebody and ruin the night for everyone

Then like a dog, I’ll crawl under the porch to die

And I want everyone to dance at my funeral and whisper chant

Then that will bring me back to life