Words by Elizabeth

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Opposite
-ES

He eats the burnt piece of the lasagna.
It's his favorite part.
And he wears boots
in the Summer
with his jeans shading the buckles,
and the shadow on his face
is blanketed by the trees
cascading behind his bedroom window.
He drinks oatmilk.
Oatmilk.
The effortless way he tousles his hair
makes me surprised that a guy that edgy
drinks oatmilk.
His lips are cracked
but caked with cherry flavored chapstick
leaving trails of fruit
on the cheeks grazed by his kisses.
And I wonder why
he appears to be
the walking imperfection
that I am fixated on.
Because I don't like burnt lasagna
or sweaty feet in the summer heat.
I like milk from a cow
and fruitless lip moisturizer.
And men who wear boots
and drink liquid from oats
while I taste remnants of cherries from his lips
as we eat burnt lasagna
in the summer sun.