I am a symbol <br />of the red-hot fire <br />burning in your heart. <br /> <br />From a store window <br />I witness the encounters, <br />the nervous sweaty palms, <br />the hellos and first butterflies <br />in your stomach. <br /> <br />From a vase at the front desk <br />of the movie theater <br />I feel your smile, <br />his smile, <br />your butterflies beating their wings <br />even harder. <br /> <br />From a bundle on the table, <br />I am your hope <br />as you laugh out loud <br />and clasp to your chest <br />a story <br />of defying gravity. <br /> <br />From his hand <br />in a driveway after dark <br />I see something rise in him <br />I am passed to you <br />and pressed between your bodies <br />I feel like I’m eavesdropping <br />I close my invisible eyes, <br />put my nonexistent hands <br />over the ears that no one sees, <br />and let you kiss <br />alone. <br /> <br />From the discarded room in back <br />I hear you shouting, <br />my meaning discarded <br />like last summer’s outgrown sandals. <br />I can tell I’m not needed <br />anymore. <br />I want to wilt. <br />I try to die. <br /> <br />But I know <br />there will be other lives. <br /> <br />There will be other lives <br />for another movie theater, <br />another hand gently gripping yours, <br />another bouquet of bright red dreams <br />against the omnipresent gray. <br />There will be other lives <br />for another him, <br />another you, <br />for bittersweet fumblings <br />in the backseats of cars. <br /> <br />I keep myself alive. <br />For there will be other lives.<br /><br />Maya Hanson (mye3 poet)<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rose-157/
