POETRY: Yes / Abriana Jette
Yes
by Abriana Jette
Hadn’t you hung out before? Didn’t you talk a few times a week? Didn’t you say hello with your lips against his cheek? Oh. But did you talk about things other than school? Isn’t it true his body would graze against yours, especially at crowded parties? Didn’t he usually go there on Friday nights? Was your shirt tight? Did it show off your body? Doesn’t it feel good when someone finds you sexy? And didn’t you think he was good looking, with that brown hair, those ocean eyes? Did you let him hold your waist? Didn’t you split a drink? Weren’t you laughing with his friends? Wait. So you went back to his place? But you don’t remember how you got there? If you don’t remember how you got there, do you remember what his bedroom looked like? Were his sheets plaid? Was the bed moving? Was it the moving of the bed rocked you awake? Did his skin smell like soft bergamot and sweat? Wasn’t his neck on your neck? Wasn’t his body on your body? Is there anything else you remember? But you’re telling me you didn’t feel your legs opening? Because you were sleeping? Did he drive you home the next morning? Did you sit in his passenger seat? Did his hand hold your thigh? Did you talk in the car? Did his lips trail across your cheek as he went to kiss you goodbye?
