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A Friend
December 31, 2008
Step out into
sticky, still air.
Want badly,
not need.
Blue-green truck pulls up,
and I know:
He’s only a friend.
Speckled brown hair
and arctic blue eyes
like fire,
fire without oxygen.
He smiles.
I freeze under icy eyes,
fall into deep dimples,
drown under the sound,
sweet, soothing,
of his vivacious voice.
Don’t see anyone, anywhere, anything
But those arctic blue, fiery eyes,
piercing me.
Does he almost know?
But he’s only a friend.
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