To a Certain Boy

March 26, 2009
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Hey boy

I like the way
your curls shape-shift
in that morning dew,

bouncing like
the boisterous cries
of a giddy two-year-old.

Hey boy

We should paint
the sky
with those light-hearted

colloquialisms of love
and beauty
and mirth-filled laughter.

Hey boy

Have I told you that
I like you,
standing under the

brambly arms
of that weeping
willow tree?

Hey boy

You should be
here, drenched in
the damp rain,

letting your kisses
cascade down
on crimson-smudged lips.

Hey boy

I miss you.





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