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boy in process
"Boy in Process"
I kept close without saying why,
neither for beauty nor for bravery,
but because something in me watched
the steadiness with which you moved
through rooms I had not yet learned.
You saw the unfinished parts,
the rawness I carried,
and whatever brightness I offered
you held only briefly.
I stayed looking, even then,
as the small warmth between us cooled.
Afterward the day rose unevenly—
light paling, ground lifting,
the hour shifting in ways I could not correct.
A boy in process tries to continue,
not stepping out of what shaped him,
holding what remains
of the days that carried your name.
.
.
