dear oliver,
i remember when you told me,
the first time we met, seven
years young going onto seventy.
“why are you frowning like that?
don’t you know it’s going to give
you wrinkles? mom said it’s bad
to have wrinkles.”
and i said, “i thought it was smiling
that gives you the wrinkles.”
you shrugged, “either way, emotion
will always leave a bad mark.”
i showed too much emotion and
now i am left with - wait - seventy-seven
marks.
guess i was one of the unlucky ones.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
