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Wrinkles

Nola Peshkin Poetry

When I was six, I was afraid of the monsters under my bed
And playing kickball with the boys.
Now at twenty-two,
I’m afraid of the fleetingness of my skin’s elasticity.
Every day begins with a dollop of sunscreen
Smeared across my freckles like clouds blurring a starry night sky.
Sometimes, while dotting sunscreen across my freckle constellations,
I remember when I felt the stars enter my soul
and turn it to melted butter,
The day my first love let three little words float from his mouth
like neatly wrapped presents with wings.
I let them land on my eyelashes and fill me with glitter.
His heart felt like a basketball, when he said it. 
Like a basketball being dribbled all the way down the court.
We’re not together anymore, me and basketball boy,
But my greatest fear was losing him.
Now, it’s back to wrinkles.

About Nola Peshkin
Nola Peshkin is a senior at the University of Washington, studying English and French. Next year she will be teaching college-level English in Belgium as part of a Fulbright grant.

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