Buttered Popcorn
Isabella Moya
Sometimes I will watch a movie for the millionth time,
Watching just to feel you next to me. I go to the theater, silent as a mime. And eat extra buttered corn, popped and free. It’s only for this scene, But I am sitting next to you again. Your crow’s feet appear as you watch the screen. I want to take out a pen And sketch every line, every freckle I see. The absence in my heart leaves. I won’t pinch myself or flee, With the thought you could only be a dream. I’ll eat the buttered air, And never stop looking at you. Memorizing every hair and Holding onto every detail, untold and untrue. I don’t dare to close my eyes, to blink. The popcorn is no longer in my hands. You are real, red and pink. Looking up, you’re no longer here. |
I love popcorn and going out to the movies. I prefer a horror movie over an action movie.
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