Everything I know about love
I learned from my mom—
How she’d come home
and sob—a vessel without
a turbine, after all the fuel
had been drained out of her
Everything I know about love
I learned from my dad—
How he’d keep it in a box
next to his color-coded socks,
orderly and neat,
under lock and key
Everything I know about love
I learned from my friends
and people my age
who let their loneliness
lead the way
towards war and rage
Everything I know about love
was set in stone,
written and learned
to ace the test
of independence
and success
Until you came into my tale
Oh, baby, what a wonderful thing
to be in love at twenty four—
Just old enough to know
we can’t last
but young enough to hope
that we will
Everything I knew about love
has changed, and all I have left
is your scent
your hair
your quiet certainty
that everything’s gonna be okay
How wild it is to let go of harm,
to unlearn in your arms
to be afraid of pain.
You’ll leave me a blank slate,
bleached by the sun
of your gaze
My love, I now beg—
Hold me one more time
until I forget
everything I thought I knew,
because when I kiss you
I feel like I could start anew
Miyin Delgado Karl is a Colombian writer, screenwriter, and poet currently based in Southern California. Her work centers around themes of immigration, dual identity, queerness, and Latin American folklore. Miyin currently works in film production and writes stories with equal measures of silliness and trauma.
Featured image by Christopher Beloch on Unsplash.
