he's a sentimental boy
who keeps fur in a jar from his childhood dog
sagely mumbles something about cloning
when i **** my head to the side and point.
he has lost most things
to the wind and rain
guards his memories
and the scrap of paper i scribbled on
and dropped in his car
before i left with his lips on my tongue
and the sound of his "i hate you" drumming
on a 12-hour train ride back to sydney.
and i've always heard about boys with mischievous smiles
but i never expected a lost boy to find me
with his jack-o-lantern eyes
one laughing
one bored
surveying everyone with eyelids still imprinted
with the image of paradise
the comparison drawn whether he wants it or not
do i fall too short of the beauty he's seen?