by Kayla Pongrac
took a train to see you and never
came home in the tearducts of my mind we are
arm-wrestling with New Hampshire and you take me
sushi-shopping and sight-seeing but she can’t stop
thinking about the top of the chapel praying praying
praying praying praying praying Amen.
wait, I’m not done writing you this poem yet suddenly
we are sitting inside a club listening to acoustic and you lean
into my right ear and whiskey whisper that you love how her guitar is so out of
tune but her voice is in shape your dusty twenty buys me a necklace that feels like a decorated rubber band around my neck and I’ll wear it like I wear my shoelaces tied:
two loops, one knot.
Kayla Pongrac is an avid writer, reader, tea drinker, and vinyl record spinner. When she’s not writing creatively, she’s writing professionally—for two newspapers and a few magazines in her hometown of Johnstown, PA. To read more of Kayla’s work, visit http://www.kaylapongrac.com or follow her on Twitter @KP_the_Promisee.