like candy

Heather Ann Pulido

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while we waited
for the green light
at the crossing,
you said, “i like you
‘cause you’re cool.
you don’t try too hard.”
i sucked on those words
like they were candy.

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at 19, i was called uncouth
because i hadn’t watched
harry potter, star wars, and
the lord of the rings.
but i read j.d. salinger
and haruki murakami.
i could drink from 6:00 to 6:00— 
vodka, gin, rum, and whisky.
(as long as they’re
in a cocktail.)
i never went home drunk.
(i just crashed on
someone else’s couch.)

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that was five years
before i let you 
into my TV-less house,
before i let you crash
on the couch
that was my bed,
before that time
i fed you take-out
four nights in a row.

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what made you think
i wasn’t cool enough
for you anymore?
i haven’t even told you
i read catcher in the rye
because i saw you
holding the book.
kinda sucks.
 

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