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My Oldest Friend, I Wish I Was You

Jun. 22, 2014
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No matter how many years, I can tell for sure you are young, wildly quiet. 


You used to drop ash and I would sweep it up, forge minor epics about divorce and teen trauma, likening them to dragon stories. As I grew older I smeared the guts of those narratives on my cheeks and nose. 


I let it dry then took the pages of a poetry book you wrote and laid them on my skin smoothly.


This was all to make you feel important, if you couldn’t tell. I fill up with touch and have no room to touch you back. 


I am ritualizing the shit out of you, while you are sitting unaware, your insides bleached by the yes of my one sick clock.


This is for the collagen in that clock. This is so I can collect your big hips and your pout-mouth and your rocky core without you noticing I was here at all. No, no, I know nothing about those robberies, friend. You were visiting me, I wasn’t visiting you.




Bethany Price graduated from UW Milwaukee with a Bachelor’s degree in English. Her chapbook All I Wanna Do was released in 2013 through pity milk press. Her poems appear in BlazeVOX, and Great Lakes Review. She lives in Milwaukee and works at a used bookstore.



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