soft
he was soft
-hearted and
-natured and
-spoken
he had soft
hands and a soft
voice and he was just soft
and sweet
he was a sweetheart
like cotton candy –
no, better –
and his voice was a sweet
melody, happy and light with
jerks
and
stutters
that just made it more
perfect, he had to know how
perfect he was,
but no, he was self-conscious
eyes wide, bright blue and
full of worry,
long, lanky, anxious;
“i hate my stutter, i sound so stupid.”
no, he could never sound stupid,
only perfect
as he pulled on his sleeves
and widened the hole in the knee
of his jeans
it was okay, though,
really,
he was soft&sweet&melodic&anxious&perfect
as he bit down
on his bottom lip
but the anxiety would fade
when we smiled;
sang;
laughed;
held hands;
did anything together
and of course it would come back
sometimes,
that’s just how it is
but it’s okay
because
that soft-natured and
-hearted and
-spoken and
soft&sweet&melodic&self-conscious&long&lanky&anxious
&stuttering&adorable&perfect
boy
was
mine.