On the last day of class, we circled our desks and engaged in one of the most difficult acts known to humankind: reading our writing out loud to our peers. In an effort to model such bravery, I wrote and shared this piece about a moment early on in my relationship with my husband. Even after practicing, even after several re-reads and revisions, I still flushed and shook and hid behind my paper when it came time to share. Personal is difficult, but so much life is injected into a work when it is shared aloud. I'm proud of my students who read their work, and I can't wait to continue this practice next year.
Vicinity You plopped down next to me The curving slope of the aged futon captured our bodies Toppling our flanks together I felt the heat of you, sensed the makeup of your shoulder Wiry muscle corded over solid bone, just enough give A slight hollow above the collarbone peeking out from under your favorite ManMan t-shirt I didn’t know then it was your favorite The dusty yellow light straining through the gauzy film of the kitchen window Slid through the bristle of your beard, auburn burning against jet black coal, And I searched for something impossibly witty to say; I would have settled for cute Your hand, already calloused, scarred, worn, was pointedly not on my leg Decidedly not around my shoulders Rather, tapping out a private rhythm on your knee “Adopted track star loves his broccoli family” -- a squeaked out comment about the t-shirt A floundering, observational comment masquerading as whimsy But you laughed Not a shocked guffaw, not a relieved release of held breath, not a patronizing chuckle Just a laugh I didn’t know then it was your real laugh I risked eye contact Slate blue eyes ringed with faint freckles perched on cheekbones both soft and strong Like a stone coated in dewy moss Something to climb on, use as support, and then rest a weary head on after I didn’t know then what those eyes look like with tears Conversation flowed then, bodies angled in, floating a “Do Not Disturb” sign The party receded, friends became faceless And I started to memorize the map of your freckles, the topography of your face I didn’t know then it was the beginning I didn’t know then I would spend years striving to stay in your vicinity I didn’t know then you were working out schemes of your own I just knew then I liked you
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AuthorMs. Jopling teaches English at Broadway High School, eats an unseemly amount of cheese, and laughs as often as possible. Archives
November 2017
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