Chicago/Emily Buellesbach

Unexpected, were we supposed to meet?
Crack the door open to you dazed at your feet.
Nikes bleach white, glaze coat your eyes,
From your high, now mine.

Walked me back knowing me,
Blue eyes, blonde hair, and that one thing.
Subtle, a hand caught the door…
Wished me goodnight, no more.

But I appreciated that, s p e e c h l e s s 
A guy could leave it at that.

Flash to now, time absent when we’re one.
Rub my hand through his chestnut hair,
Admire his lip as it twitches, eyes steady
At me.
He just wants to look at me.

Now 4 am, the sheers glow.
Class at 8 am, we’re timeless.
Talk nonsense, yet we know…

Repeats he’s curious, but it’s pure.
Thoughts drown my walls.
...how does he take it so slow.

But I like that.

Back scratches under the sheets,
Lets his insomnia sleep.
Groggy by dawn, sensitive when 
I must leave.

Steers me back to the same door,
Where we first said goodnight.
Now a spot, we end up every week.
Cautious with our feelings,
Hate to say it, then it’s real.
Hearts open to be hurt…

I don't mind though.

---

Emily Buellesbach is a Communication and Media Studies major. She is also on the Dance Team and is an Opinion Columnist for SNC Times. Poetry has become Emily’s creative outlet to relieve stress and help her convey what she’s thinking. When Emily is not on campus, she is an Acro Dance teacher and works at DSW.