Everyone goes to the King of Prussia Mall 
shopping for an apology:
We drink bubble tea 
by the blue tile fountain--

We all started to feel
drawn toward the King of Prussia
Mall again-- 
Everyone goes. 
Not out of 
desire but out of a ritual 
planted as pennies 
in our wrists by the evergreen
trees-- this year
we started sleeping on
pine needles by November-- 
a dream of
self-mutilation-- at
least we smelled like a forest
on the mall floor--
Oh! We are born
in December again to learn how to 
wrap an apology not a manger
We drink pink bubble tea 
by the blue tile fountain
when our arms get tired of 
the shopping bags-- 
I say I'm sorry I didn't bring 
any pennies--
You say you don't understand 
bubble tea and that you
were sorry for so many things
you wouldn't know what wrap
with ribbons this year-- 
We played marbles with the
tapioca orbs and 
watched them float around the 
fountain water like 
God had dropped a bag of planets
-- my mother used
wrapped her "sorry"s in banana bread
and rainbow yarn--
and my father wrapped his
in plastic dinosaurs and 
juju bees--
Oh darling was it worth wrapping
at all?
Save the ribbons for when
you hold me down tonight--
I'm trying to tell her 
I'm sorry I'm not warm like
hands around a mug of coffee--
I can't kiss you right-- get stuck in
your teeth like toffee--
I'm not thick or sturdy 
like bricks of fudge but
love you can build a gingerbread
house out of me-- 
We dragged ribbons of receipts
behind us-- worn
like shawls-- these printed 
promises to get better-- we are going 
to get better
this year
-- we're wrapping
an apology this year and we swear it
will at least have a bow--
All my past lovers have
always had the best apologies 
to wrap and never keep--
click me like a silver necklace
and keep me steady in the hands 
of your pocket watches--
there's never been enough 
apologies to teach someone to 
love you-- I want a 
person who can admit they'll
never be as thick as block of fudge
but willing to try to be staircase--
So we picked up the pennies from the
fountain and apologized again
for taking someone else's wishes
even though the water already 
forgot them-- they had already
become a tray of thumb print
cookies or a jar of peppermint bark--
say you're sorry like
the floor of the mall covered in pine
needles where we have to sleep
and get up early to start
wrapping all these apologies--
stay with me and when everyone else
rolls over to dream we can bathe 
in the blue tile fountain--
drink pink bubble tea until
the water turns to tapioca orbs--
undress from ribbons of receipts 
and write "I'm sorry" 
on each other's forearms--
Oh that's all I wanted-- 
if you don't expect me to be a necklace
or the warm belly of a mug
I think I might love you--
You don't need to apologize for
not being a shopping bag
or juju bee--
neither am I-- all I think
I am anymore is bold 
enough to bathe in the 
blue tile fountain with
you-- this year we can 
split Auntie Ann's pretzels on the floor 
of the King of Prussia Mall--
wipe butter on our jeans and 
wait out this season--
apologize with lips and
skin
and linger like toffee 
and the smell of the 
pine needles still pricking
our knees.
Sit by the blue tile fountain with
me-- Oh, and no I don't
understand bubble tea either--
but it's pink like
you and me.