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A Year
by Uriel TovarOne thirtieth seems like one
Thin slice of pie
But I guarantee you baby
Its one of the thickest
With the sweetest berries
And extra whipped cream on top
Never too sweet and just enough
To fill me up knowing that it won’t be the last.
From a night in front of a donut shop
Waiting for a plane ride out
To the days in paradise wishing
It was you that I was in the car with
You waited and I’m glad
Because you ask me why you
And the truth is you’re the only one who fits
In my arms on a cold night at Disneyland
Waiting for the water show
Dreaming of a whole new world together
And we found it
At the hotel room
With the curtains that wouldn’t shut
And the sushi rolls with peanut butter
You don’t remember but I do
That you liked the burnt cookies I made
Over the ones that actually tasted good
Or the way your mouth opens a little when you fall asleep in the car
Drooling on your shoulder
That weekend I met you
In our dreams
Not the first time you fell asleep on me
But asleep with me.
05/15/2012 Posted on 05/15/2012
Copyright © 2025 Uriel Tovar
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/18/12 at 11:53 PM Now, that's an ending to a poem that is effortlessly a fantastic narrative at the same time. |
| Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 05/19/12 at 08:08 PM I like this quite a lot. I suspect a whole lot of readers will resonate with the general experience described, and your own details and specifics somehow make it both idiosyncratic and universal. If that makes sense...it does to me. |
| Posted by Jody Pratt on 05/22/12 at 03:16 PM As Rhiannon said, it resonates. You've written something people can relate to as we've all had those little "inside" experiences with someone, like peanut butter on sushi, but that one, for example, is unique to your experience. Very well done. |
| Posted by Stephan Anstey on 05/22/12 at 11:28 PM Definitely evocative. |
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