we are back to ten
preteen novelties, bralettes, tents

you meditating, holy book in hand
quiet scribbles, I pen something for you
a meditation on how the light falls
so strikingly on your face

ink bleeds through the page
you are in so many of my dreams
knight in shining armour
rumpelstiltskin twirling, spinning gold

I hear you say “she’s so deranged I’ll take her”
I smile and look away
something fragile flutters
I catch myself blushing

this moment blossoms
into a hundred more bad poems