What I like best about this photo of myself
by Lisa Summe
are the flowers in the background & the likes it gets.
I'm listening to a podcast in which 3 poets
are discussing birthdays & one woman,
reminiscing about her love for smoking cigs
as a teen, says it's all about laws
but I hear loss. There are days
in which I cannot tell the difference
between the light coming in through the pink
curtains & the actual sunrise. When two things
seem the same sometimes they are.
There is like & there is love
& there is being horny, all
holding hands with each other.
I am measuring my desire
in apology. Last night I said sorry
to the woman I've been wishy-washy with
all summer, told her I have made up
my mind about wanting you
& I want you. She said what changed?
What is it called when you get off
the internet & become able to take care
of yourself, & it translates to giving
better care to others?
Instagram clogged my brain like summer's
sunscreen clogs my pores. Wash it off
& reapply. Now that I am available
it is her turn to leave & she will leave me
more than I can tell you. I am prepared
to get on the horse, keep riding
this merry-go-round I built,
through the fall, the winter,
the whir of this machinery predictable,
the horse's legs not even moving.
Lisa Summe is the author of Say It Hurts (YesYes Books, December 2020). She earned a BA and MA in literature at the University of Cincinnati and an MFA in poetry from Virginia Tech. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Cincinnati Review, Salt Hill, Waxwing, Vinyl, and elsewhere. You can find her running, playing baseball, or eating vegan pastries in Pittsburgh, PA, on Twitter and Instagram @lisasumme, and at lisasumme.com.
