thinking of my eternal crush in the parking lot

in the topiary garden of my mind

over and over again

mementos of you:

pathways of privet and boxwood arches

leading to the space left empty

by distance and disconnect;

i had to fill it somehow

so the hungry soil wouldn't keep spilling

this longing i never quite wanted

white azaleas shaped like love letters

the diary entries i sent you

because i wanted you—

only you—

to know the inside of my mind

like your own backyard

wilted roses coloring hearts between the lines

sprinkled throughout like your rarity kisses

staining my lips passion-red

no need for lipstick

just often enough to keep me craving

all the time

blue hydrangeas mourning my mistakes

weather-worn train tickets dangling from their stems

tied not with the red string of fate

but lengths of rough rope

of my own making

forgotten walkways plastered with unsent messages—

i have to put on my heart-shaped glasses

every time i dare to go there

or the cutting-edge cobblestones would slice me up

like the shattered shards of a bar bathroom mirror

that, between graffiti and stickered stalls,

showed me the briefest glimpse

of what should have been

rosemary bushes that don't even need to be shaped

because they'll remind me of your hair care forever anyway

of countless hours spent spilling our hearts

onto loose paper doomed to get lost in clutter

into notebooks stuffed too full with handwriting and hope

into telephone wires sizzling with summer break nostalgia

into clicking keyboards, masquerades on dark screens

ignoring and yet reveling in the truth—

how perfect it felt to be seen

through the rose-colored lens of creativity

by each other, specifically

i think of you every time i walk past that concrete-and-brick parking lot

right next to my house

where the snow drenched my overworn summer shoes

as i ran to you that gloomy february night

and i miss your blooming sunflower smile

every single time

Irina Vérène is a non-binary femme from Germany. Primarily at home within the realm of dark and historically inspired fantasy, fae has enjoyed roleplay and writing from an early age.

Several of faer pieces, both prose and poetry, will appear in Queer Gaze Mag's Queer Monsterx issue, with another set to be featured on their blog.

Previous
Previous

moved by time

Next
Next

the night gardener