PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

we meet at my house after three years of silence

and i let you, the first boy i ever loved, enter

quickly all tension evaporates/ instead of talking much

we strum

and i tell you through music all you need to know

do you see, i can write my own

do you see, my voice soars and loves

away from you



we smoke joints on my mothers balcony after two bowls

in my room

quickly i become accustomed to

the touch of your fingers as we pass it back and forth

you see, i thought i would melt at that touch

but all i do is

breath smoke deeply in and speak

speak for hours about the small things in our lives

sneaking out, moving out, shrooms

stories pour like butterflies from our mouths

and besides the whisper of our fingers meeting at the joint,

i do not touch you

because if i do

what colors    or    chaos    will ensue?

because green turns blue

even the sweetest things become destruction in the end



yet already i dream of your skin

your lips

and the one intake of breath that will be my life for days

right before you kiss me

i cannot dream like this no no

it is of no use to want you





after three years all is well

we have changed our definitions of the word to suit

to stay alive

it works

after 3 years we can realign our signs,

smoke a bowl on a sunday,

and make small talk about the lives we haven't shared

in so long

i can let you enter now

you, the first boy i ever loved

pasa

peace



for now