Mind Reader

They say I can read minds
I'm not so sure

But I do know I can tell what she is thinking
When we near Esimed street as her jaw tightens and fingers loosen slightly
on the steering wheel

Her sadness feels like gravity doubled
Like a wound in saltwater, like ink in my veins
“It’s okay to remember,” I say
“Stop reading my mind,” she mutters as we drive away from the cemetery
“I’m not,” I whisper

They say I can read minds
I'm not so sure

But I do know I can tell what he is thinking
When he walks quickly by his room and struggles to straighten his lips

His happiness feels like anti-gravity
Like a sip of lemonade, like sunshine in my lungs
“You opened the acceptance letter,” he accuses lightly
“No, but congratulations,” I reply, mirroring his smile

I’m not so sure I can read minds, but
I do know the voice of a liar is hollow
I do know the eyes of a lover are planetary
I do know many things I can't explain

Researchers claim my superpower lives in the brain
Among networks of electric pathways, but I know
It lives in the heart among unseen emotion

They say I can read minds
They call me Empath.