By Catie Wiley
when you say you love me,
my ears are full
of applesauce.
i hear the sounds but
never
the meaning behind them.
every day, i try
to shake the applesauce
out.
i try and i try and i try,
but it’s no use.
i can’t use a q-tip.
no spoons allowed.
a fork would never work,
too much risk,
and i’ve never wanted an ear piercing
anyway.
you say you love me and i want to ask you
to write it down. in pen, not pencil.
hell, a sharpie would be better.
write it down so I know
i’m not imagining it.
write it down so
i can hold it in my hands.
write it down.
the muffle will linger.
Catie Wiley is a lesbian writer from Maryland. She’s a contributing editor for Story Magazine and a poetry reader for the winnow magazine. Her work appears in Stone of Madness Press, Wrongdoing Magazine, and warning lines magazine, among others. Find her on Twitter or at catiewiley.wordpress.com.