by Elisa Chi
Perfectly moisturized lips–not from chapstick though–doused in mahogany lipstick. First Meet: Mom leading a woman to the kitchen. A nod. Epipen. Got it. Cursive handwriting in blue pen. Slightly wrinkled dress shirts & fuchsia Crocks. Brazilian coffee sipped, smelt. Dark jeans. A tight bun pulled back, exposing the nape & forehead. Portuguese over the phone. Hide-and-go-seek with butts sticking out behind the refrigerator & faces hidden in the palms of hands. An exploration of the trails, but really, two steps until we reach the playground. Merry-go-round. Angry Birds. Presents for the younger brother. A phone call. Two. Blonde hair leaking behind the backseat of the minivan. Boo! A squeal. A stare. A new white desk mom bought. Four hands, scribbling. “I can draw better than you.” Glance down. Glance across. Glance down. Colorful Barbie surfer girl. Pink. Blue. No. The gift of youth: soft skinned hands, moving across the table, covering mistake. “No, you can’t.” Slower. Get it inside the lines. Milk on the counter. Milk from someone’s nose. Origami stars at the kitchen table. Glasses. Disinterest because I’m older than you. Okay. Sulking in the adjacent room. Looking in the mirror. Empty space. Stairs. Stares. Closed doors. People in rooms. No one asked. Parched, dehydrated, chapped lips. Lick. Sour feelings bleeding into the next day. Clasped hands & intertwined fingers: “God, can I have no dreams tonight?” The playroom. A new couch mom bought. A thin fuzzy cream-colored blanket with even thinner green stripes zigzagging across the edges of that thin fuzzy cream-colored blanket. The library. Biscuit by Alyssa Satin Capucilli & pictures by Pat Schories. Stuffed Biscuit forgotten in the car to preschool. Tiny pigtails. Pigtails for everyone. Pink hair ties with those glassy red balls stuck to the ends. A long long long car ride. A board-game closet. Dinky light. Wii-controllers. Mugs on mugs across the world, resting on shelves too tall for children with pigtails. “Don’t do that!” A vein. Oval rimmed glasses paired with a balding oval head. Sorry. It’s okay. Chuckle. Fixed. Avoid. Nothing wrong in the first place. Balance. Out. Goodbye. Arms pulled around torsos, hugs for all, words probably said in ears. Cards. Blue. Pink. Crayon drawings, meticulously colored in with thick & dark outlines, lightly & evenly shaded in the inside–looks like lip liner & lipstick on perfectly moisturized lips.
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