I want to be the flower plucked by that girl, the one
she throws away after the picture. I want
to be the honking car that almost hit the careless jaywalking boy
( i am that boy ). I want to be the shadow of that tree enveloped by buildings. I want to
be that cloud shaped like an arrow ( there is no cloud ). I want to be
the bike that man is riding. I want to be the roach of the restroom, prey for the custodian.
I want to be the soap dispenser that’s all out of soap—
Click twice to realize nothing will come. Have you ever been so careless that you kept pushing? Kept
shoving your hand against the squeaking dispenser? Is it asking me to stop? Or is it saying,

I remember the face of the boy who tried me last night. So beautiful was his smiling

disappointment. I want to be that
smile, the one that doesn’t fade
but knows
it will soon.

Kyle Oh is an economics major and creative writing minor at the University of Houston. He primarily writes poetry about gayness and sometimes its conflicts with his Nigerian culture at the moment, and is also published in the 2019 Fall issue of ‘Sink Hollow’. He hopes to have a chapbook of poems by the time he graduates. Follow him on Twitter @KyleOhPoetry.
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