I'm Eeva, this is my blog, mainly about my cat and irrelevant text posts. And photography, i guess

British Bug by Matt West

British Bug by Matt West

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Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school,
and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you,
I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones
warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.