the splinter inside me

palm sunday always used to be my favorite at church.
there's something about green fronds that i could smack my older brother with when he farted on me in church. there's something about peeling the leaves along their striations until the perfect curl formed in my hand, readily reminding me that god can make some really beautiful things. there's something about tangibility that can not be refuted or regretted during this, the season of resurrection.

however, instead of going to church this easter season,
i went to brunch at the germantown cafe-
where i gave my phone number to the waiter.

mind you i wrote the digits on a calling card that read,
"Ms.(blank) would like to apologize for her naughty behavior on (blank) to further address, she may be reached at (blank)"

i filled in the blanks.
he's called.
he's smart.
he's the next boy i'm gonna kiss.

turns out that god likes it when i stay out of church, because
i needed to remember what it feels like to be excited
instead of vaguely disconcerted when a new boy calls.
i needed not to laugh at someone
who could not wait 24 hours to talk to me.

maybe i can hold this palm and find resurrection.