How is it you think you know me
like the back of your hand?
you remind me of someone
you spew my un-names, chunks
of misremembered recollections and spit
flecked in my familiar hair.
I have been given /a name/ and
/a face/ of my own, and yet -
Untrespassable, but still -
you remind me of someone
I am a glistening flame of reminiscence
in a world of unabashed moths
you remind me of someone
I am an echo of a word never said to me
I am rattling hollow
- I wonder -
how many times I must layer my translucent skin
stack my shadows, paper thin multiplied
fold myself over myself
until I am opaque
until you remember -
who it was I reminded you of.
How is that my condition
is evocation?
maybe i will always be, the peripheral vision of a memory
a familiar smell from a child’s kitchen counter
my barren body, your mother’s shampoo -
Maya Renaud-Levine is a sophomore at Beacon High School, born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. She sings in a chorus, plays the piano, goes for long walks with friends, inhales crime novels, and generally makes it very difficult for herself to find time to write. Poetry is a newfound passion. This is her first publication.
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