When I meet my #1 movie star idol
in the long make-believe hallway
of his movie set school
he sneaks up on me
like a little Jack Russell terrier.
But he’s not little at all,
he’s big!
So big
big and red
His hair is like hard strawberry candy
shining in the studio lights
and his skin is so white and translucent
like sweet sticky rice
the little blue and red veins just under the surface
like strings of cotton candy fluff
spinning round and round in the machine at the fair and
“O! His eyelashes are like honey!” I say to the invisible translator
not sticky, but the color where the light passes through them
My fingers get itchy
his are balled into fists shoved into the pockets of his pants
–not that i am looking there!–
I clutch my notebook to my face
hiding my mouth and chin behind them
the way his character in the movie
clutches his pillow to his chest
smiling and nodding at his friend
hello hello hello hello
bowing nodding smiling
I ask if I can touch his ginger eyelashes
He says yes!
His smile is so full of glee
I can see all of his big white perfect teeth
like little pieces of gum lined up in a row
as he leans forward eyelashes fluttering slightly as they close
and I lean forward stretching out one fingertip
testing the air between us
the vibrations tell me “all systems go!”
I lightly stroke my finger across the feathery edges
and as each golden strand pops back into place
I feel a little tapioca pearl pop up from my belly into my mouth
until the giggles come out like bubble tea
He opens his eyes and stands back up straight
giggling too
I put my fingers to my face and smell them
inhaling his scent off my skin
Smell is connected to memory and taste
so I lick them!
To seal them in my mind, with this moment
I gently pat his chest through his sweater
so solid and warm and something almost tangy in the air
I whisper to the invisible translator
“He smells really good!”
“You smell nice, too” he says, so polite
Me! But everyone tells me I smell like an old lady
He looks between me and the invisible translator
still smiling but there is a curve at the end
like a quail feather
Did the translator translate my words incorrectly?
I want him to know
I mean the scent of lavender and rose water
not mothballs and cedar covering the smell of decay
at least I think that’s what everyone meant
I never actually asked
An image sneaks into my head
I remind him of how his fake movie girlfriend
jumped on his back like a kitten
and he carried her through the halls
with her tiny claws in his skin
and when he is busy remembering
I sneak in from the side and ask
if he will carry me like this too!
Yes, alright, yes, he says
so gracious is my movie star boyfriend
I know we are connecting
when he backs towards the wall
so I can climb on
and he wraps his arms back behind him
around my thighs between where my socks end
and my skirt begins
his soft warm hands are like octopus tentacles
smooth and delicate but surprisingly strong
you know there is nowhere to go
except to be bitten with one hard poisonous beak
as we ride up and down the hallways.

I was inspired by this video to write the above poem: