In my summer era, circa 2003

In the era that social advancement was measured in purple walkman first hand from the US of A,

silver discman handed down, orange ipod nano, first hand again -

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I’m not one for second hand scratches

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Age: I only-know-how-to-cook-a-fried-egg and scraped knees from

walking/running/chasing/hiding too soon,

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Urgency still too clumsy a thing for my girl body to hold

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My bruises turned the color of my walkman and 

I'd wear shorts anyway, say look how we match,

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Look how fashionable my falls are

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I had a teacher who matched her saree, purse, earring, and nails everyday and I still didn't care

to think she was beautiful. effortful, not beautiful, I'd say,

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What an asshole I was

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With Saathiya bolly jams in my ear, and the occasionally snuck in eminem cassette. I'd turn

cassettes with the same urgency I ran with, never let one end finish fully before turning it over

carelessly, jamming it, slamming it, urging it to JUST WORK already,

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Glad I learnt to sex differently

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I wore clothes with writing, why waste body canvas without sharing a message. my message on a

taut denim coord set before those were cool, are they cool? Anyway, it was: nice casual style

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There is nothing casual about me now.