Poetry by Allie White
I’ve spent years replaying the night
you told me, eyes half-closed,
“If I wasn’t so drunk, I’d kiss you”
then did anyway
or the first time we were alone –
I swung around, interrupted you
with my tongue and lips
I’ve never been so bold –
then my necklace
in your mouth, the diamond
between your teeth.
You bought me a Mickey’s for the Wisco game,
spent two dollars and seventy-nine cents.
I thought you’d gotten me the fucking world.
Maybe you did
still, I have nightmares of drowning
in your red sheets.
Allie White has been writing since she was a child, when she would meet her neighbor Sonja in the field across from their houses and lay for hours in the grass, reading and exchanging verses. That space became sacred and their writing meetings, ceremonial. She first discovered her passion for poetry when she was 14 after a boy broke her heart, and her writing continues to be heavily influenced by relationships in her life, both romantic and platonic. She lives in Portland with her dog, Finn, and is currently working on her first book, tentatively titled I’ll Come Running.