crush poem

By Faith Geiger

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Photo by Mikayla LoBasso

It’s about all the same things
they’re always about: 
it’s about the trees,
it’s about the sky, 
it’s about all the muddled pinks 
the sky so often holds
in these musings of mine. 

It is, of course, about the moon
which tonight hangs red and low 
like a promise I keep 
mistaking for a threat. 

And yes, it’s about a you–
which is, of course, you:
the way I forget your face
each time you turn away,
remember only that it stirs 
something in me;
the way I keep feeling
for you in my memory, 
keep pricking myself
on the sharp blur of your novelty,
keep deciding to try again,
till I’m lucky enough to get it right.