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 |