February 27, 2008
By April Choi, Glen Rock, NJ


A crick, crack, and squeal open the door,
WHooSH…the air catalyzes the process
And the door is rudely thrown back.

It renders its long hidden secret naked.

There, drip, drip, dribble,
All down his arm
And GASP is what he manages.

The sudden sun squeezes out his guilt.

S…m…i…l…e onto my lips,
Unable to stop it I let it stay
And my lips are peeled back.

This may be my last for him.

So cautiously, respectfully, peacefully hidden,
cRuNcH grabbed by sly fingers
And now no longer is.

That was MY ice-pop.

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This article has 1 comment.

linoh said...
on Aug. 5 2008 at 4:54 am
April!!! You got your poem published, too! :D Congrats~

- Lindsey


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