viewfinder
i thought you had a summer home
in barcelona because i had seen
pictures of you in front of la
sagrada família and knew your
father had money.
so maybe that’s why
when i first met you i didn’t know
what to say, someone too
worldly to have
anything to learn from me.
then there was your
halloween party where i
managed not to be in any
of the photos. perhaps it was for
the best.
upstairs, on a couch i’ll never sit
on again, an image of us has
started to yellow: me, blushing
because jamie lee curtis’s breasts
are on screen, and you,
nervous because all your other
guests left us alone.
nothing happened.
at least for another year or so.
sometimes it’s hard to guess
how long film needs to be
exposed. i wanted to get
the colors right.
Copyright Credit: NOTE: This poem is part of “Pethetic Little Thing,” curated by Tavi Gevinson. Read the rest of the portfolio in Poetry’s July/August 2015 issue.
Source: Poetry (July/August 2015)