There was a boy with a soft smile and old jeans
He routinely wandered into Mr. Jeremiah's B period class sophomore year
and per routine, pocketed a piece of chalk
Mr. Jeremiah, completely aware of this,
allowed him to continue
likely in pursuit of his own curiosity
As the boy continued day after day,
Mr. Jeremiah discovered  that he was keeping
each piece hostage in his locker
exhibited according to size, for safe keeping
What Mr. Jeremiah could not unveil is that
he scourged around the school
napping pieces of chalk from each floor, each room, each teacher
Then, used them to write letters long lost onto pieces of white paper
until the parcels were too small to hug between his fingers
White chalk on white paper
how bleak, but hopeful it is
only being able to read the scratches when held up to the light.
Love notes passed on a blank page
illuminated with shadows,
glass bottle messages that
disappear when laid down, forgotten
There will always be another piece of chalk
another leaf of paper
more invisible words to write
The crumpled lined paper was then passed to shaky hands
and dull silver rings
raised to the light, illuminated by chipped nail polish and clammy fingers
Blue eyes squinting to decipher what message the boy intended for them
gum smacking in rhythm with her heart,
the secret message was never muttered aloud
rather kept two souls connected, silently