Morgan's poem

Allusion

She sits

on the bench

too close to him.

 

He turns to see

a girl,

reading a book.

Pretty hair.

Pretty face.

Generous figure.

 

She feels his eyes on her

and looks away.

After a moment

she finds the courage

to meet his gaze,

but he’s already faded away

staring into the empty space

before him.

 

She watches him watch nothing.

Skinny.

Dreaming eyes.
A nice smile.

 

He looks back at her.

Suddenly insecure again,

she turns back to her book, Fahrenheit 451.

How like a mirror, her face.

 Impossible; for how many people did you know

who refracted your own light to you?

Words tumble over words.

Nothing makes sense.

She pulls out her phone instead,

searching for simplicity,

and catches sight of her reflection in the screen.

 

Fat--

Three chins from this angle.

Blotchy pink cheeks.

 

He’d never want to be with someone

like her.

 

Nobody would.

 

He was so lucky

to be skinny

and good-looking.

 

He watches his marred reflection

in a puddle on the sidewalk.

skin and bones.

too pale,

even portrayed in water.

 

The girl next to him

is so lucky.

She’s got a figure and rosy cheeks.

 

Nobody would ever want him.

How could they?

 

They spend so long

criticizing their reflections

that they never bother to say hello

and ignore the open window

of a new friendship

and instead

hate

themselves.