Tell me what am I to you?
Am I a cloud rolling through,
whatever your imagination deems me to be?
A bubbling, frothing image back dropped by the evening sky?
One moment I’m the evening sun,
the sparkle in the night sky,
the next, I’m the nightmare you’re running from…
Tell me…
What am I to you?
What do I mean?

socks socks daddy you wear some socks
daddy tickle me
daddy tickle me
or like this or like that
daddy tickle me
tickle me
daddy tickle me
tickle me

Cupcakes and hugs are

nice,

my sweet tooth is happy,

I guess.

People have been

kind

but I’m a little

overwhelmed.

And so my

Big Day

was celebrated

alone,

in the library,

with a hefty,

well loved,

copy of

Norton’s Anthology of Poetry,

flopped open to page

262.

Goosebumps tickle my arms as I

swim through

Sonnet 55,

floating on its buoyant imagery,

falling in love with its

cocky perfection.

Peel the Bible-thin pages apart to reveal

page 801

and I have to suppress my happy chirp when I find

my other favorite William

and his beautiful daffodils.

 

I hope your rooftop winters are treating you well
And I hope that cigarettes and cheap beer
Are as heavenly to you as they were when you were seventeen
Because I’ve only recently acquired those tastes
I hesitate to say we were children
But just because it might have just been me
But we were shadows of what we would become
Ours was the briefest relationship either of us had had
The approximate length of one movie
And I’m pretty sure during that hour and a half
I sweated more into your hand
Than 6 relationships worth of being afraid of women
I’m not even sure I paid for your ticket
And you definitely drove us there and back 
We kissed through your car window as I headed to my house
And it was too weird for either of us
You headed home, and we broke up
And it could not have been healthier
We both moved to New York
But you shot up like the skyline of the city 
Rocketing upward in a blaze of apartment parties 
And performing in experimental theatre pieces
While you move up I’ve moving outwards
Like the island I live on
And heading towards the water 
And whether your ship or mine takes off first
It may take a while for our paths to cross again
We spent one night together 
And the sexuality of it has now escaped me
But the passion has not
And after four years of sweating for the same things together
It was only appropriate that we lay in your parents’ bed
And shared that passion
You woke me up with coffee on your breath
It was my first hangover 
And for a moment
I thought we were adults
From that moment on it was on awkward date
A text message break up
And goodbye
And I’m not sure when our paths will cross again 
But I look forward to it