grade the second,
our hearts young and naive
he gave me half a sandwich
but kept asking for another girl's hand
(jokingly? i know not.)

//

in the same school string orchestra
i wanted to run bow across violin strings
creating the music in my heart i couldn't express with words
why he took up violin? (and then quit?)
i know not,
for it is five years past

//

he was smarter
and perhaps more mature
than most other boys in the grade
yet he wasn't clever enough
to see how my heart ached and sang for him
or maybe it was just a
missed connection

//

lighthearted jokes always danced between us
but nothing more
i used to think his gaze held volumes of meaning
but maybe he was just observing
the butterfly dancing round my head

//

dark brown eyes, a head of floppy hair
that bounced when he ran
not towards me, but not away either
our gazes clashed how many times i could not count
and he held my heart between his gentle hands
for more than two years
for some reason,
i find him most difficult
to describe in words