Skyscraper

You smelled like all the boys who had given me trouble before
When you spoke, you blew warm air from your puckered lips
And they looked like a rose
That I used to make with my mouth and my tongue in middle school
And when that rose blossomed
It carried not the scent of water and honey but instead
Of stale weed and tobacco
Which can be rolled up together, I learned when I met you,
To make a spliff
Which is different from a blunt, I learned, too
Because a blunt is wrapped in the paper used to roll a cigar

With the others, I didn’t want to know
So I didn’t ask
But with you, I hung onto every word
Like each thought were a newly renovated story
Of some skyscraper filled with desks and plastic people
And everything I hate
But the idea of something so fraudulent and anxiety inducing
Struck me as absolutely beautiful and desirable

And so sometimes when I walk down the hallway
And your smell floods into my nose,
I can’t help but think about the boy like a skyscraper
Shiny and new,
Because I’m from a small town and mostly
I just see barns,
But when I think about it, really, you must be
Just another barn
Because barns don't smell very good.