YOUTHFUL

Anika Proddutoor

Headaches, and silver linings, and ultimatums. Smell after the rain, the glovebox of a car, gaps of memories

Barely remembering the giant oak tree of colors

Or the poster of that silly boy band that’s been up for centuries

Flash forward a little to the yard with the splashes The house that creaks a little in the night, The heat shutting off and your silly mug collection That I add to everytime I see you bright

We’ve been native to this exact town for years We can check out the new park down the street But have yet to explore, too busy to see new places, Yet it’s artificially made of concrete

You sleep on my couch, as a song plays from your phone Some slow random song you showed me Oh, but when you look so excited to share bits of yourself I find myself at night listening to those melodies

I wish I knew more languages, For when you speak, I want to translate your words And preserve them forever

Just like the old gothic novels you read to me Or romantic era poetry