Rachel's God

October 15, 2018

Before her lunch break

she seemed like a cameo

in a short story I read a long ago

I didn’t want to recognize

my first date in the United States.

 

She looked different in her gray t-shirt

and hand-me-down jeans

and her red and white paper bag,

Chick-Fillet, the down-trodden.

 

When I was young and lost and never found

she came to the cafeteria with me to teach

how to eat fries with ketchup with no forks,

but fingers picking one at a time.

 

Our first date aka our friendly

trip to the Downtown Cinema 8.

She and I talked about life

when my English was broken

 

I wanted to give her a kiss at the end

like they tell you in movies,

the Hollywood make-believe,

I respected her agricultural mind.

 

How you got to wait till the seeds

bloom in the late autumn in green,

make you their equestrian queen

Above all, the corn maze, the lean

 

Reptilian was her fantasy, we had a

date after three years later, and

then I let her go when she told me

that she preferred snakes to rabbits

 

I believed her when we were alone

in that room by the Florence Street.

Bats were playing cards

against humanity inside the walls,

and I walked up to her room.

 

She gave me a hand-out of the church

she went to, and I told her

how much I loved a god loving girl.

she believed me, but she didn’t

 

the god that I believed in before her.

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