By Mariyah N. Johnson
When you see a man, you see him not for the clothes he wears or the height of his shoes. But simply for his demeanor. His presence is the apple that only falls when presented with the opportunity to show up.
When loved by this man, this creature. You do not think of his emotions. But rather his ability to swim. You think of his backstrokes and wonder if this is a memory that you could tell your kids. You wonder if “Your dad has a wonderful backstroke!” rolled off the tongue well.
When rejected by the said creature, you no longer refer to him as a man. You now refer to him as a dog. A creature who chases its tail with no real intention of catching it, wondering what it would do if it ever got the opportunity to cast said body part.
When dreaming of said man, you wonder whether thinking of fruit will free your mind of this endless cycle. Thus you think of his legs as bananas and his head as a tangerine, big, round, and orange. And his arms as eggplants. The sight frightens you into a shock.
When riding your bike down the street, you blink at the trees without leaves.
And wonder if they ever get tired of going through the same cycle for hundreds of years. You wonder if it would get tiring if the curse could be reversed.
When sitting on your couch eating popcorn and watching a movie, you wonder if this commercial life is worth it. You skip the dramatics and take out a book and glasses to read. You figured your life is cliche and boring, cinematic and commercial.
When showering at 12 in the morning, you wonder if the water gets turned off sometime in the night. But as the hot water fades away and reads “Get the hell out.” you sigh at the dramatic effects of your life.