Speedy Rhymes

I wrote each of these poems in less than an hour.

What do you smell like?

I smell like San Francisco streets
and dried up paint on canvas sheets.
Like pink Dutch tulips and pencil smears
and old birthday cards all stained with tears.

And added to my essence, mint
like polar ice, with the “Extra” print.
And countering that scent, warm milk
with a dash of vanilla, as smooth as silk.

I smell like fancy dry shampoo
and the sugar cereal from parties I threw.
Like lime La Croix and rain in May,
and the suitcase I can’t put away.

A touch of organic hand sanitizer,
And the rusty scent of a choir riser.
Plus half an ounce of cactus flower
(it gives you memorizing superpower).

And finally, I smell like hope;
it’s citrus-y, like lemon soap.
Just one small spray of my signature scent
Is like gifting yourself a daily present.

Long Copy: Verati

Paid freelance work for an at-home laser hair removal product.

To my former lover,

I honestly can’t believe it has come to this. We were so close. We spent so many intimate moments together, and at the start I couldn’t fathom an end to the connection that we shared. You were fun and charismatic with a supportive spirit. In fact, I remember when we met. You stood out from the crowd, and being around you made me feel so mature and sure of myself. When you asked me on our first date, I was wary at first. But your smooth talking and gleaming smile convinced me to take the risk.
At the beginning of our relationship, you were gentle and sweet. After our third or fourth date, I even started telling my friends about you. One time I went swimming with some of my girlfriends, and they mentioned how much happier and more confident I seemed.
But things began to change. Even just a few weeks into our courtship, you stopped being there for me when I really needed you. Sure, you were physically present. You showed up. But you began to slip through my fingers before I could even get a good grip on where we were in our relationship. When I started seeing you less often, that’s when the little red flag went up in my mind. Maybe we weren’t quite as compatible as I had thought.
And to be quite frank, you’ve changed too. When we first met, and everything felt shiny and new, you were clean and put together. These days, you rarely get dressed up, you neglect your hygiene, and you’ve allowed yourself to become grungy. I thought our relationship meant more to you than that, and I’m surprised at how things have shifted.
You hurt me. I opened up and let you into some of the most personal parts of my life, and too often you acted like it meant nothing to you. You left cuts and scrapes on my heart, and I can never forgive that. I fight the thought that I wasted time on you, but I spent hours and hours on someone who just wasn’t ready for love.
Now, I want you to hear this from me before word starts to get around. I found someone new. He can talk smoothly and his smile gleams, but there’s tenderness and authenticity behind it all. He’s powerful yet constant, two things you never were. The first time I met him, I was impressed by how clean-cut he was, and when I’m with him time flies like I never knew it could.
And so, dear razor, this is where it ends. Our hasty pre-vacation showers and bloody knee nicks are a thing of the past. No more will I grapple with your slippery handle or rusty blades. Now, I see right through your empty promises. I know this might be hard to hear, but it needs to be said. I have found love elsewhere, and that is where I intend to stay.

Sincerely,
A fed-up shaver

Luma Elite