I will never taste gummy worms
without tasting the salty tears
that rolled down your flustered cheeks
and smashed onto my pale white cheek
from pulling you close.

No eyeliner, just mascara,
nor concealer, just cover-up,
not even lip gloss, just chapstick,
and always some perfume.

She once spent a whole 10 minutes
laughing, but not laughing laughing,
laughing with tears coming down,
choking on air, to the point
there was no sound coming out.

How couldn’t I see
the deep sea sorrow?
How could I miss the “I’m fine”s
that really didn’t mean fine.
Your face camouflaged your thoughts,
but the spark in your eyes faded out.

Sometimes I think
of the parents you have,
now gone,
Mr. to the windy city,
Mrs. home with you.

To get you to hurdle those jumps,
“I’ll always stay with you, trust me,”
with her leaping to hug me.
Colorful worms, blue ’n’ red,
your favorite,
green ’n’ yellow, also fine.
“Gummy worms take me home”
as I keep her close and stroke her hair.