Laura Ferrucci

I fell for you all late summer steam and dark humid rain,
+++++electrically charged fingertips and cursive smiles.
I didn’t even open my eyes in the deep to
+++++see and mourn what I had lost …

The moment you balanced your feet next to mine on the curb and
+++++bowed your head
+++++to hear the absentminded showtune
++++++++++on my breath like whiskey,
+++++whispering to me in my tapered silence that you
wanted to hear me sing,
+++++with earnest like opened peach halves so raw and sweet
+++++that my voice obeyed
++++++++++before I had the chance to decide …

The breath you took when I whipped around
+++++in my bus seat to offer you a pink polka-dotted grin,
and the delighted children we became in our anticipation,
+++++all crossed stars and side glances savored like chocolate truffles
++++++++++too thick and syrupy to devour whole …

I fell for you all sweaty foreheads and damp pavement,
+++++full palms and knotted stomachs –
I always knew that my concavity had a counterpart.

But then the ache in my lungs when,
+++++with bellies full of Dippin Dots and funnelcake,
+++++retinas imprinted with neon orange lights,
+++++throats scratchy from belting and laughing,
+++++your hand burning my thigh in the dark and
+++++my head on your shoulder,
you rested your head
+++++on mine
+++++hard and heavy,
++++++++++straining my neck, and

girls are told that they will be
+++++held and carried,
but love is not gilded or glittered,
+++++not a pedestal or throne,
+++++not a carnival or sweaty palms,
+++++not plastic smiles or chocolate truffles,
+++++not whiskey or shared melodies sung quietly in the rain.

I fell in love with you that night,
+++++hard, heavy heads on bony, tired shoulders.

Laura Ferrucci is a third year student studying Mechanical Engineering. She builds cars by day, writes poetry by night, and just wants to find enough time to sleep.