Slammed & Split

Committing Coolness

See, maybe she’s idealized
in my eyes;
larger than life size,
refined too tight
and buffed so smooth
it only leaves right
Where I’m probably wrong.

Her voice is a song
I haven’t heard in years,
but would remember in a moment
because I own it,
or at least I feel that way.

Her face
In a photo —
or two or more —
is all that I’ve got;
a series of masks
that rest on the top
of memories marred by time
because time took them away.

Her body is clad
in the three outfits I can remember
iIf I try:
One —
that green sun dress,
which was lime green like tacky ‘50s formica.
Two —
Jeans and a halter
with bouncing bracelets bunched at wrist
and shifted back
when they fell too far forward.
Three —
A metal-band belly tee
with cargo capris
and well-worn Cons on feet.
But I could be making that one up –
And we’ll never know for sure.

Her personality
is pieced together
from fractured fragments of online conversation
and what I can recall
of times three years ago
we spent together
at camp,
when everything was a slow-moving blur
because it all happened so fast
but developed so slowly at the time,
as we walked around
the campgrounds
to the art shack and back.
And maybe that’s all that friendship really is.

Or maybe it’s forcing a budding bond to form
because I called her on it
and said I wished we’d met somewhere else.
Then she went all in
and said, “ I know —
It’s cuz we’re too cool for all of this.
We’re better than them —
they just don’t know it.
Because they’re too naïve
to see
and know better when they’re shown it.”

Well, she didn’t say that second part,
but it was inherently implied.
And maybe that’s when it happened,
and a thought together tied
two disparate lives
to be partners-in-crime
committing coolness
wherever we went.
Or would wander
until we united to unleash
our brand
of the sound and the fury
and let everyone know
that together
we were too cool for them,
and felt like flaunting our full-force fuck you
to their face
filled with a fiery passion
because we each had a friend
who knew we were right.

But that day
seems so far away,
like from N-Y-C out to L-A
or San Antonio,
which is where she stays
or so she says,
and I’ll never truly know.
Until I make a break
from my life here
And go.

So you can tell Rachel I’m coming,
but probably not today,
and tomorrow’s not too likely
so all that’s left to say
is: I’m here for her
In word today,
and I’m hoping that’s enough.