a love letter to the mall

[weepingcrab]

a merry-go-round pings:
ring around the rosie

sweet grainy lips from the Auntie Anne’s i begged my mom for,
greedy eyes hovering over cookie monster cookie cakes,
food court free samples followed by a slice of Sbarro.

for new releases, the Barnes & Noble served as a temporary library,
buying books on telling time while losing track of time in rolling hills of shelves
and a Hallmark’s only purpose was to look at Webkinz, wanting nothing more than to take
one, or two, or four fuzzy friends home.

a pocket full of posies

3am black fridays, shopping with parents trailing behind, shopping without them, finally!
tuesday summer movies, white and gray ticket stubs jammed into clear phone cases
ding-dong-dinner ditch drinks dripping off faces over Olive Garden breadstick baskets
sharing a piece of home, sleep-deprived delirium in the face of love with no conquest.

ashes, ashes

the Sports Basement is now a roller rink and the Sanrio store is now a spa.
the Hallmark is now an airsoft range but the scent of cinnamon still wafts over.
a garish yellow that once settled into the dry, golden, rolling hills
now stands white and gray and white and gray and white and gray;

we all fall down.

the carousel cascades and begins anew.