BEB #14: The Visitor

by Sienna Brancato

I dance into your fresh-from-the-bus arms
and kiss you with frozen lips,
out of breath and a little unsteady.

We collapse into window seats at &pizza,
still shivering but staring and smiling,
ravenous from the long trip.

Backpack dropped onto the floor of my room,
coats thrown aimlessly.
You kiss me again, but different this time.

Feeling your warm heart pound against my chest,
arms intertwined, I don’t know how to separate myself from you.
And I don’t want to.

We spend the next three days doing nothing,
with intervals of something.
Food, photos, meetings, maybes

But mostly we just live inside,
reading Plato and Aristotle, watching soccer,
watching each other.

Goofy, silly, tickle fights and tackles
Secret looks and sneaky surprises
Teaching you how to dance

Watching almost a full season of the Office
and feeling nothing but accomplished about it,
nothing but happy with you.

And at the Sunday end,
we don’t say goodbye.
I won’t say goodbye


Illustrations by Kimberly Jin

Bossier Mag