“It’s So Funny”

Ha ha ha!

It’s been
four months
since I’ve seen you last

when there was ice
in the air
and biting frost
grazing through my hair

but you were warm
like the sun,
warming my cold,
I know we had fun.

Now you’re back
and it’s summer
but I
don’t really
know how to explain.

Something’s cool
in your smile
and it’s starting
to show
that you’ve changed.

Was I just
something
to pass the
snowy time?
A chip of ice
to cool down
your flame.

That blonde
you’re looking at
now is damn fine.
Looks like heat
is more within
your sight line.

I can see through
that facade
like a window
of cracked glass.

Seasons change,
connections don’t
last.

I guess
I was just
a cool breeze
to make the time
pass.

How funny.

Ha.
Ha.
Ha

Photo by Timothy Dykes on Unsplash

©2020 Jai Lynn

This post “It’s So Funny” appeared first on Jai Lynn.

Twitter | Instagram|Pinterest

“Boy Next Door”

I looked for you
when I rounded the bend
on our street.

I looked for you
when the sun was high
and the air filled with heat.

If it was raining out
I knew our paths
would surely not meet.

I thought I always
was the one
to notice you first.

I thought I always
tried to find the right words
only my voice was dried by thirst.

Probably, it was for the best
to stay on the sidewalk
as a girl, silent and cursed.

Then, one day walking
down our street
I noticed a flash of color.

Him going one way,
and I the other, neither of us stopped
except in the looks we gave each other.

I held your eyes,
and you held mine
until out of sight in that breath of summer.

After, I wondered
what it meant.

Me always looking to you
and then you seeing me.

Maybe you too thought words
weren’t the only way to speak.

©2020 Jai Lynn

This post “Boy Next Door” first appeared on Jai Lynn.

Twitter | Instagram|Pinterest


“Correlation”

Photo by Norbert Buduczki on Unsplash

I see him
every Sunday.
My dog and I
always taking
our stroll.

Bustling,
with a cloth
in hand
he cleans
and scrubs
until the windows
and blue doors
of that car shine
like diamonds
in the summer
or sapphires
in the winter.

Every Sunday,
he hustles
around that car
as if it’s a high strung
girlfriend
instead
of a means
of transportation.

As if it isn’t
our day off.

This is all
I know about him

and I wonder,
if he treats his car
that attentively
how would he treat
a girl?

Jumping
over puddles
or meandering
in the shade
of the sidewalk,
I look for him

and I wonder.

It wouldn’t
be normal
to see that car
without him there.

I see him
every Sunday,
and I think,
he sees
me too.