literature

dear mrs sand

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Literature Text

i.
“il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie,”
she says, and i scoff.

ii.
there’s blue welts peppering my cheek
and a thick cut on my upper lip,
bandages over my fists.
“your nose is bleeding,”
he says.
“thanks,”
i say,
“you did that.”
he laughs.

iii.
my nose is still broken,
when his bumps it.

iv.
“i don’t know how,”
i say,
“we got here.”
he laughs.

v.
“of course,”
he says,
“of course i will.”
i laugh.

vi.
my nose is still bent out of shape,
but when my fingers skate over the pages,
“il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie,”
like they skate over twin bands,
i don’t disagree.
i know what you mean. 

oct. 14, 2014
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