there are the things you can touch and prove
like when your tongue goes raw after eating two bags of salt and vinegar chips
or when you accidentally bite into a jalapeño chunk you didn’t know was in your queso and reach for your soda but it only makes it all much, much worse
there are things you can touch and prove and more
(because when I asked you came knocking)
you came to my door high with
a brown paper bag,
said you didn’t know what kind of snacks I wanted so you brought them all.
you handed me a blue popsicle
that reminded me of
summer, sitting on top
the freezer in the garage
by the dart board and the
leaf blower
(but somehow this was even better)
there are
things you can touch and prove
and more
like a dozen yellow roses
in a coffee tumbler by the front door
like finding a pot when a stranger handed me a baby tree on a train
like moving me to the other side of you when we cross streets—
(you on the inside where the cars are)
like when you tried to deep fry a pizza
(and washed the dishes after)
like when you drew our initials in a skull on a wall in a sub shop
like leaving your shoes outside the front door
like how the wine is always merlot because I said it was my favorite
like how you’ll take me to wifi and leave me to write
like how you’ll lay with me
like how you kissed my hips when you didn’t like what I’d done to them
like how you said you couldn’t hate me even when you tried
like how you’d miss me within hours
like how I miss you
there are the things you can(‘t)
touch
and prove
and more
& more
more,
more.
Alexis Diano Sikorski is a Filipino-American seeking balance and good vibes. She’s studying English and Psychology at Texas Woman’s University. Her work has appeared in Pour Vida Zine, Mistress, The Regal Fox, Bombus Press, Queen Mobs Teahouse, SPAMzine, and Sea Foam Magazine, with pieces forthcoming in Sigma Tau Delta’s The Rectangle and Moonchild Magazine. She likes dogs, looking out of windows on airplanes, and things that may or may not exist. She was probably a sailor in a past life. @Sikorskidear