ging-ko

i've grown into a tall child

the entrance to my dormitory 
is lined with ginkgo trees.
small and scarcely branched 
as if barely adults themselves,

and even in the bright may morning
they've just begun to wake up.
careful green sprouts emerge like
young eyes squinting against the sunlight.

i used to think ginkgo was spelled
"gingko," when i was little and watched
the golden-yellow fans swirl down my
street and collect in the storm drains.

it was a sign of autumn, the falling leaves
and the pungent smell of ginkgo fruits
spilling squishy flesh across the pavement,
ripe and rotting and stuck to my shoes.

but it smells like the school nurse in here,
like rubbing alcohol, antiseptic wipes,
like wanting to go home so bad, you
feel it in your stomach and your cheeks.

i cleaned up my dorm room and i packed
up all my flower vases and birthday cards, 
polaroids and books and pens and 
soju bottle caps and i felt sick a little,

cleaning up my life and sorting it into a
bunch of cardboard boxes. i think i get
too attached to items that i'll never
need, but i hold on to everything cause

i believe that little things mean more 
than we will ever understand in the
moment, trinket-trash reminders of
the way we used to feel. we grow up 

and we all change behind our backs.
we forget the people we really are
until somebody asks us to tell them 
about ourselves, and we say things like

i'm a college sophomore instead of 
i like to catch fireflies in the summer 
right before the sun sets cause
that's just not who we are anymore.

next time i have a job interview i'm
going to to tell them i am a girl who
says the wrong things often and would
kiss anyone who asked me very nicely

and i like the smell of acetone and 
sometimes i forget to call my mom
and my hair grows very fast and i'd
like to think that i am smart-ish.

i thought ginkgo was spelled gingko
when i was too young to forget
what's supposed to make sense.
because that's just how you say it,

two clinks of your tongue inside your
mouth like the sound of empty vases
settling against each other in a
cardboard box. ging-ko, ging-ko.