Restless Shortcoming

by Juliet Tolley

The moldy butterscotch kisses the back of my tongue
I can feel the leftover wrapper permeate my outward folded teeth
Your jubilant smile once pressed knee deep into my daytime ensemble—
Second hand white lace (with bra), skirted pants and sunglasses you can only see from that street sign you think’s so cool.
I see your mayonnaise laugh in retrospect
Bird’s eye
My sophomore bangs hurled across my winter forehead
The one you forgot to graze, maybe skim
As you fade into your sleeper’s seat
Blithe as a refrigerator
My feet buried under assorted pebbles
The farcical colloquy outside the bricks I grew up in
felt further than the Home Depot west of guide-less.

The trickle of tears feel aged on me now
in my new year’s ensemble (eve)—
sparkled gold sequined top (no bra), knotted flapper skirt and slovenly eyebrows you can only catch outside the black-lit room by the jazz band’s smoke section.
To forget to think of you is to forget to blink when the tide steals your pride
and your precious bikini bottoms.
Bird’s eye
I could’ve swum away.