kairi’s corner

in the kitchen table w/ the flour still out, 2 fingers on the rolling pin, dough gone slack & warm.

In the garage where the band keeps practicing a song that isn't going anywhere, drummer's kick pedal squeaking on the 4.

@ the long wooden desk by the window where the light comes in bad & the painter keeps adjusting the canvas instead of painting.

In the conversation that runs over, the talk meant to end @ noon, the talk where someone finally says the thing they meant to say in 2019.

In the body of the poem that has no business being a poem, the line that doesn't land, the image that only works if you've stood in that specific parking lot at that specific 4am.

Here, in the margin of the notebook. Here, in the handwriting that is unmistakably yrs & no one else's. Here, in the error, the overworked passage, the bad draft that is bad in a way only you could have managed—

she was my rock in the midst of a storm

and the corner of a page dogeared for me to return to

she doesn't know what i think of her

i can try to speak the words, but they fall short of the feeling

the brightness that nearly blinds me when her face faces mine

i still get antsy, and my palms start to sweat

years of knowing her and my face always gets hot

i get embarrassed when she rolls her eyes at my jokes

and my stomach fills with butterflies

i find myself writing as an outlet, trying to get any of it down

but the words fall short of the feeling

we've grown up together

we were kids, and then teens, and now we're adults

we're adults now

isn't that so strange?

i don't think so, i love it

she creates this fire within me, this sort of frenzied passion

it drives me wild, she... drives me wild

i know love because i know her, i know love because i love her

i love her, because i know her

and i tell her every waking second

but the words fall short of the feeling

no words will ever be good enough for her to hear

the entirety of earth's resources still aren't beautiful enough for her

she deserves everything and more

every day i wake up striving to create something worthy of her heart

she is my everything

Chidi is the only person not thinking he's the most fuckable person in the trolley problem, he's behind the controls of the trolley concerned about what the most ethical choice is, obviously.