Julia Rose Eng

venus making its dutiful rounds in a capricorn rotation makes me hard to love, you said, and i ride the escalator down to look at the tulips, puckering their faces at your distaste. the hearth warmed sound that escapes you when i tell you that i used to only take the elevator because i once caught a sandal in the escalator’s hungry tread convinces me that you are lying about me being hard to love.

it means that you hate it all. you hate the tulips and cleaning your roommates side of the room. telling me that my shoes are not in the way of the escalator tread is like cleaning your roommates side of the room. he has a bad relationship with his mom and an expensive hair care routine. that is not your problem to solve.

knowing venus in capricorn means that you are too bad for prep school but too good for the local high school, but you hate collared shirts so you made your choice. too good for 59th street subway grate underskirt peeking in front of the mandarin where you point the Lichtenstein out to me. look, it’s revolutionary. too good to accept change. too good to accept change from the barista. so good that it ends up in coffee cups on the street and not in your pockets. i do that too now, you know. it feels like you are making room for my stuff, so you’re so good that your pockets have my medication and the popsicle stick with a joke on it that i felt like saving. you hate that you love to do it. you love taking me on the escalator. it makes you feel like you are solving a worldwide struggle. you are America's hero. you are my hero. when i grow up, i want to be just like you. isn’t that what this is? you love scowling at the tulips. you love to go up the elevator with blondes like kill bill uma thurman, and not pulp fiction uma like me, because gentlemen prefer blondes.

the problem is that you liked to fix my problems. you’re gone, but i still love you like the moon has rotated this earth for millennia. i am the celestial anomaly that preceded every big bang and followed every earthly crisis because i care. so much that i exist in your life only as a wavering chemtrail over the beach that you might tut your head at, which watches as you leap into the surf. i will always sigh from above when you open a bottle with your teeth. 

it scares me when you do that.

it’s okay, i can bust a tooth for you.

beer tastes like horse piss but i don’t say anything. just like they say in that song, paradise, with the green. that is your color now. that is your record. just as i have mine.

all you will feel is the wind picking up the sand in your sandwich, and all you will see is a seagull struggling to face the breeze. he flies in place like a fat, sad hummingbird.

because of you, the frames of paintings matter a lot and that is scary. these days, i am the air-conditioned shadow that hangs over the paint when the gilded wood blocks the gallery lights. you complain that you can’t see the whole painting.

that’s the point, silly. you’re for my eyes only. special green for the special One. 

i want to go back to the met but i can’t. i want to buy the baby blue toile plates from the brunch place and throw them at moving trains. i want you to ask me if i want a milkshake while you pick at your blue nails in the greek diner with the apple pay. i want to put all of my belongings in your pockets, my whole life in a six inch pouch. i want to cook pasta with you in your kitchen back home. i want to meet your mom. i want to slap your dad in the face. remember when you scared the shit out of me in front of that manet? i was so busy looking at the frame like you told me to. i want to wind back the tape like beckett’s loser. i want to get kicked out of the japanese club because i spilled my drink on someone and i want you to follow me out because you care. i care/you care/i care/you/care/i/care/i/i/i/i. it’s like a sylvia plath heartbeat. you think it’s funny i read sylvia plath. you think i act like that girl from the movie, the one with the bangs and the mineral water, and i think this is hilarious because she is a distilled woman.