i saw a woman today
whom i thought was naked
from far off, because her skin was pale
as her dress, and she was walking
dead center down Nel Ray
with cars on both sides, walking stiffly,
as if trying to keep a million
bees from stinging all over. she may
have been stung already, puffy as
her face looked to me. from crying? maybe crying
and staring through the floor
of the bus for too long, until the skin
on her face got heavy.
i couldn’t get around her.
i felt my unshaven face
start to itch and i swore
i had thousands and thousands
of stingers to pull out. then my face
would swell, and finding her home would be
easy enough, slow as she’s walking, and i doubt
she’d see a single soul in the state she’s in
except someone else in the state she’s in, a true
we could still kiss like we are.
surely something nice would come of this.
because you wait and wait and wait
for something clear as day, to see it
plain on someone’s face. just like this.
Britt Luttrell is a 24-year-old male person from Austin, Texas. He leads wilderness hikes for preschoolers and fears that he will never resemble the talent of a toddler’s mind for story. Hold up, you put a bonnet on the elephant seal in your basement?! Really?! He writes anyway. His favorite words are about vulnerability, bad decisions, resurfacing. So is his favorite anything.