You Come to Me

 

Recently you come to me not only by smell,

but in the syllables offered by strangers

for me to peel like oranges

and stick between my teeth;

the ridge between the mattress and our wall;

you are strongest in the lyrics of the base.


I found your shoes sitting on the curb last night,

and wore them as my own in the morning.

I found hitchhikers in January last night,

and held their hands on the street.


Still, I never meant to eat images of us for breakfast,

like me dancing in New Delhi for you

or how our arms accounted for the baggage

that sat between us-

touching elbows when we were most full

and stomachs on days we were empty.


And all I came in to tell you was that

I have eaten my first strawberry of the spring

and,

if I made a trail of seeds between my door and yours,

would you follow it, please?

 

 

 

Samantha Reiser, a graduate of Stuyvesant High School, is currently studying English and American Literature at Harvard College.