Grip

Grip
Aubrey Bahala

One knows when one is
Not liked. She can tell it through
The guy’s way of grinning,
With the man’s choice of words.
With how you open the door
For me.

I can tell it with how frequent
You blink or snap, or turn your head
While talking to me.
The way you let me choose where
To eat. All of it tells me.

I can tell it with how you walk beside me
While we’re discovering the city:
Looking at it in detail,
Its vulnerabilities, its imperfections.
Like a child gazing at
an insignificant, unattractive toy.
The way you stare at my tired eyes
As if not seeing anything beautiful.

You must know, after all these years,
After all the guys who’ve been on top of me,
After hearing them promise everything they have
Just to make me happy,
Just to assure me they’re real,
I never hesitated, even once,
To try it with you, time and again.

And I will never forget how ugly the feeling is
Not being liked.
No matter
How hard I
Try.